New World, New Man
by Employee 427
Summary: Okay, imagine this. You're a kid from Queens, New York. One day, you get bitten by a weird spider, you make a few mistakes, and eventually throw on red and blue tights and become a superhero. It lasts a few months, things go well, other things don't, but eventually you slip up. You die. You think that's the end of the story, but boy, have I got some news for you.
1. Chapter 1

**I - Somethin' Somethin' Boutta Hard Knock Life**

 **(Peter's POV)**

I can't breath.

My head is swimming, it's so bright- _no, it's dark isn't it?-_ and so cold and I just _can't breath_.

Where am I? Where did I go? Where could I have gone? Wasn't I just-no. Can't think about that, not now. I-I have to get myself together, to think. I'm good at thinking, that's what got me my reputation as high school wallflower.

Where was I last- _Bryant Park, 6 PM, got a call from MJ about some freak turning the park into his own personal smashing grounds. Three died._ Right, my arm was broken, he grabbed me while I was trying to tell a stupid joke and-and smashed me into some café like I was a wet paper towel. God that hurt, I don't think Rhino's ever launched me near as hard.

Okay, after that- _got up, couldn't react fast enough, Spider-Sense was blaring like mad. Before I know it I'm punched through the next wall and I'm fairly certain my ribs are broken, all of them._ Right. Ow. What about after tha-

Oh.

Oh God, no. _I'm on my back on tiled concrete, people are screaming and running around us, some even stopping to take pictures. Arm's broken, mask is ripped up-MJ's gonna complain about having to sew it all up._

" _WHO ARE YOU?!" I yell in anger, rage,_ fear. _The tall man in the long trench coat with horrible yellow eyes just chuckles and says the things that'll haunt my worst of nightmares for years to come._

" _It's always the same question. I am Morlun, Peter. You know, in all the times I've killed you, I've never had one so young, so...fresh."_

 _Before I know it his hands are gripping the sides of my head. God, it's like he's crushing my skull._

" _I wonder if you taste any better?!"_

 _Before it happens I can hear it and feel it. The bones in my neck snapping out of place and making a noise that made me want to vomit. It's like slow motion, I can hear every crack. Suddenly my vision veers left and my arms are limp. It hurts._

 _I can just barely feel his teeth sinking into my neck._

 _(He is Peter Parker, 15, Spider-Man for eight months, killed by an Inheritor, Morlun before any of the other Spider-Men could save him._

 _Otto Octavius, the Superior Spider-Man of Earth-616 will later find his body, surrounded by screaming cameramen and reporters, the worried looks of curious onlookers and the crying face of Mary Jane Watson. It was a pity. Another dead Spider-Man. Another dead hero.)_

Oh God, I'm dead.

No, this-this can't happen. This couldn't happen. I don't want to die, I'm-I'm too young to die. What about all my potential? The chance to stand with the Avengers, j-just like Fury said. I'd grow up and be one of the greats, not-not die in some park in the middle of Manhattan wondering how some giant freak knew my real name!

I don't want to die, not yet, please not yet. Who's going to stop Norman from making himself even more of a monster or-or his son from following in his footsteps? I haven't found Eddie, he's-he's still out there, hurting people, feeding. Will he ever be stopped? Kingpin, after all I did, after what he did to Daredevil I-I can't let him roam free, the way he is. It can't end this way, it can't end this way, it just can't!

Aunt May, please God let her be alright. She already lost Uncle Ben, what's she going to do if she finds out I'm dead? How will she go on? How's she gonna-

NO! C'mon Peter, you can get up! You've survived a fight with the Hulk for God's sake just-just wake up! _WAKE UP!_

* * *

He's beyond surprised when he does.

It's not the sight he expects upon waking up, however. When his senses come back to him and he could feel his own body again, noticing he still has his costume on, the same red's and blue's with an chaotically uncoordinated and spastic pattern of black webbing trailing around the red parts of it, with two large white lenses on his mask. It's still a beat up, he notices the tears all around, one more easily noticeable across his jawline, the mask now barely covering his mouth and chin.

The sky is blue, bright and nearly cloudless, cut by two jutting structures jutting into the sky next to him-he was in an alleyway.

It's not _as_ cold as...whatever that was, but it's still chilly, plus, he's been punched into concrete enough to know when he's laying down on it. He sits up and examines himself first, staring at his hands and body (thank God he still has those), and he begins to notice that something feels different. Off. It's almost like a tone shift in a film scene, or a subtle change in someone's behavior. It's still the same thing, but when you've become so used to how it used to be you really notice the changes.

He hugged his own body and pinched, making sure this was all real.

He gasps as it all comes back to him, the sudden ambush, the ensuing battle, the collateral damage, feeling the bones in his arms turn into dust under the grip of the man in the long coat, hearing the sound of his neck snapping, feeling it all wash away.

But then how was he here, alive, wherever it is he is? He could breath, he could see and smell and touch, he was _human_. Now don't misunderstand, he was ecstatic, and he hoped he'd never have to experience something like that again, but it just didn't add up.

Before he tried to find answers, he first had to know where he was. He stood up slowly, his body feeling much heavier than it usually does, and observed his surroundings. It's an average alleyway, tall chain link fences on both exits, garbage bins filled to the brim with people's discarded trash, fire escapes leading up and down the sides of buildings-it's fairly ordinary. He noticed something particularly odd as he observed the street through the fence, gazing upon the morning commuters and nearby storefronts. Everything looked _weird_ , like Xavier's School for the Gifted weird. Occasionally someone would pass by with some strange, inhuman feature. Blue skin or a bony protrusion popping out of their head, and no one seemed to bat an eye.

 _Alright, weird. Don't seem to be anywhere...normal_ he thinks, scratching his head. He took to the rooftops, leaping from wall to wall like Megaman. Upon landing he surveyed the street and surmised that this was not, in fact, New York, or any place he immediately recognized. The strange people were _everywhere_ , in stores and on the streets, driving cars and waiting for public transport.

There were billboards in the distance, large and flamboyant Japanese text that he couldn't read alongside the image of someone dressed in a strange costume, not unlike the heroes of New York. It looked like it was advertising them.

"Right, not even in the continent of America. I gotta find a way back home if I-," he was stopped by the sound of screams, a lot of them. He's immediately on the move, faster than any normal human can move. Figuring this all out can wait for a moment, he couldn't ignore someone in need.

He's dashing across rooftops towards the scene, following the sounds of yelling and panic. The buildings are smaller than Manhattan, he thinks.

He hears another yell, less scared and more threatening. Whoever it is speaks Japanese, at least, Peter assumes it is. It's loud and powerful and just asking for a fight, not unlike the kind of yell he'd hear from someone like the Rhino.

He's on the scene in seconds, and there's a crater in the ground surrounded by worried onlookers, most of them running for the hills. In this crater stood a man with sharp, brown stones protruding from all around his body is stood. He's large and burly. _Looks like a discount Thing,_ Peter thinks as he falls to the ground, landing on the middle of the street in a spider-like crouched position, a goofy smile visible through the cut in his mask.

"Say, you don't happen to be called Ben? I know a guy who looks reeeeal alike-now that's not me being racist, sorry, rockcist, but you're kinda-woah!" He's in the middle of telling one of his jokes when the rock man tries to smash him while yelling something else in japanese. The fist impacts the ground, creating a small crater, Peter lands on a light pole, performing an impressive acrobatic flip through the air and gripping onto the metal like a lifeline.

"Right, language barrier. Think I'll just do this the ol' fashioned way." As he's speaking the man grabs a low-hanging street sign, ripping it off the storefront and tossed it at the costumed teenager with all of his superhuman strength.

It wasn't an uncommon tactic that most baddies like this used, and this wasn't Spider-Man's first rodeo. He leaps towards it and presses down on on his wrists with his middle and ring finger, preparing to fire two weblines from his homemade, Parker approved web-shooters, though to his surprise, he heard a small 'fizz' noise, and small dribbles of dried up web fluid shot out of the nozzles in between the fabric of his costume and fell between his fingers.

Oh right, he forgot to fill up on web fluid before getting there.

He groans just before the sign hits him, whacking him away mid-air and sending him hurtling towards an apartment building. He slapped back-first into it, creating a large crack in the cement. "Alright, OW!" He got up, clutching his side as civilians scattered around him, clearing most of the street.

The tall rock man said something Peter couldn't understand and began to laugh. He took it as an insult. The eyes of his mask thinned and his fist tightened. "Alright pal," he began to step towards him before breaking into a full sprint at the villain, "let's see how ya'like a taste of-!" He reels his fist back as he closes in on the rock villain, who's preparing to throw a blow of his own. In a flash, Spider-Man suddenly, seemingly trips, pushing off the ground with his previously upraised hand and hurtling upwards towards the man, his foot primed to impact his jaw. The villain is taken off-guard, and the boy's strength overwhelmed him. Just like that, he's out like a light.

"Huh, that was surprisingly easy. And that, civilians, pedestrians and bystanders, is how you handle a bad guy." He gives the crowd a thumbs up as he spins on his heel, stood over the unconscious man. He receives strange looks and what he assumes are questions, with little cheer for his heroic act.

"Tough crowd, just like home…" He sighed, turning to the big ugly lug on the ground, "so what to do with you?" He's stopped when he feels a small, but noticeable ringing in his head, Spider-Sense, warning him of _something_.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns, not knowing how someone could've snuck up on him. He barely sees the expressions of the crowd change from those of scrutiny to wonder and awe.

Behind him are a trio he barely recognizes, a blonde woman with a purple and white outfit, a dude with what looked like a wooden bicycle helmet, and a man with white hair that defied gravity, and a blue shirt that was only sleees.

Spider-Man thought they all looked ridiculous, and he'd come face-to-face with _Iron Fist_ for God's sake.

"So, say, you guys the clean-up crew 'round here, cause I'm pretty sure I just did your job for you." He puts his hands on his hips and smirks under his mask.

The one with white hair looks agitated.

This is gonna be a doozy.

 **End**

* * *

 **EXTRA:**

 _Months Earlier..._

"Yeah, just stop here Uncle Ben." Peter Parker tapped the older man's arm frantically as he caught sight of the train station. He was mentally preparing himself for his first big day in showbiz. Spider-Man's astonishing wrestling debut was only the beginning.

Ben smiled as he pulled over by the stairway, putting a hand on Peter's shoulder, "Have fun at the concert son, just make sure to get home 'for curfew." The teenager smiled and nodded before looking back outside. He stared out the window for a moment, before turning back towards his uncle, a somber look on his face.

"Say...Uncle Ben, I just need to ask somethin'..." Peter rubbed his arm shyly as he spoke, as if he cooking up some sort of lie in his head, "if you had a-a talent, something you could do that no one else could...would it be a bad thing to, I dunno, cash in on that talent?"

The old man looked surprised for a moment, blinking, before speaking with a concerned tone. "Well, Peter, this all depends on just what kinda talents we're talking about, I mean-"

"Sorry, sorry it was a dumb question I'll just, head off." Peter rushes to undo his seatbelt, reaching for the door handle before he's stopped when a hand latches onto his forearm.

"Peter listen...your father, he had a philosophy. He believed that if there were things in the world, in your life that you had to offer, things that you did better than anyone else...things you could do to help people, well, your father believed that it wasn't just a good idea, or a split-second decision to do those things…"

The older man clasps his surrogate son's hand in both of his own, giving them it a tough shake, "it's your responsibility to do those things." He looked into Peter's wide blue eyes. "Don't try to be less, don't try to be someone else. Great things are coming for you kiddo, I believe that. And with that comes great responsibility. Dya' understand Peter? Great responsibility."

The boy thinks for a moment, before looking back outside, releasing his hand from the old man's grip. "Yeah I...I think I do. Thanks, Uncle Ben…" He's quiet and in deep thought as he exits the car, not turning back. He's stopped mid-step when he hears the old man speak again.

"Remember, back before curfew!"

"Yeah yeah, I gotcha Uncle Ben!" Peter smiles and waves at his uncle just before the car starts moving. Peter will remember that last smile on the old man's face as he's driving back home. With every near-death experience, the image will flash in his vision and give him the strength he needs to get back up, because knows that if he doesn't, he's failing him.

It's the last goodbye he'll ever give to his beloved Uncle Ben.

 **End.**

 **Author's Note: Welp that's it for today. Had fun writing this. I may or may not do an extra every chapter featuring snippets of Peter's life before the events of the story, as well as other stuff. I know how the rest of this will play out up till a certain point, so ideas and recommendations are 100% accepted, as well as any critiques to my writing overall.**

 **Adios.**


	2. Chapter 2

**II - Nothin' Like Christmas Morning**

" _Oh you are really in for it now, Pete."_ How long has he been sitting there? Four-maybe, five hours? He was so, so tired, and prison cell beds were not all that comfortable, neither were the strange, giant handcuffs that wouldn't budge no matter how much pressure he applied. His costume is still worse for wear, though his mask is missing, revealing his short, messy brown hair and tired hazel eyes.

"Does it get any worse than this? Could it get any worse at all? Next thing I know ol' Ock's gonna be paying me a visit…" He spoke out loud, looking up at the cold grey ceiling and resting his head against the wall he was leaning on.

Let's recap, shall we? First, he wakes up in an alleyway in God Knows Where, Japan, after getting, and he's one hundred percent sure this happened, killed in the middle of Manhattan. He proceeds to do get in a fight with some gigantic rock monster man, defeat said rock monster man, and is then confronted by a trio he believes are supposed to be the 'heroes' around these parts.

From there it only got worse. The one with the wood powers (who he's pretty sure was stealing his gimmick when he saw him swinging on those arms) proceeded to give him a long-winded lecture that Peter didn't even understand, not like he'd have listened either way. He tried to talk to them, to reason, but they seemed insistent on holding him captive and, he assumed, handing him to the authorities. While this would usually be a good thing, Peter couldn't risk his identity as Spider-Man getting out there should they ask him too many questions, so logically, he retaliated in a stern but still peaceful and courteous way.

...Which is what would have happened if the one with white hair didn't try to grab his arm and drag him like he was some kind of rag doll, while also trying to remove his mask. Let's just say the young man didn't take too kindly to that, not one bit.

Fast forward ten minutes and he's cleared twenty blocks and is being chased across the rooftops by a very agitated looking woodland hero with a dent in his helmet from a rather nasty drop-kick, and a roughly 70 foot tall woman who was trying to catch him like an actual spider. This was not the ideal situation.

Fast forward another three or four hours and he's sitting in a prison cell in police custody. Unmasked and incarcerated, the worst case scenario for any hero. They hadn't even taken him in for questioning yet, though he could hear them every so often, whispering in the distance while giving him strange glances. Peter wishes he'd taken the time to learn Japanese.

"Young man?" Those are the first English words he's heard and he is downright ecstatic. He snaps up, shaking off whatever tiredness that was weighing on his body and stares up at the two taller police officers on the other side of the cage. They're both wearing the same kind of uniform he's seen every other officer wearing, with their hands were behind their backs. The one speaking English has a noticeably thick accent, but he'll take what he can get at this point.

" _Gonna pretend that I'm not a tiny bit terrified at the fact that the guy has a horn that's about the length of my forearm. Seriously, where am I? And why is no one else noticing all this weird cra-"_

"Uh...young man?" The voice starts again, snapping Peter from his thoughts. He nods, and the officer clears his throat and continues, "We'll be taking you in for questioning. As soon as we have everything we need you'll be free to go."

Peter face lit up as the officer opened the cell door, sighing in relief.

Perhaps from here things would get better.

* * *

Things have gotten worse, much, much worse. He doesn't know if he's capable of thinking straight anymore at this point.

It's hours later and the sun is going down, he's stood outside on the rooftop of some apartment building in a change of clothes, his costume and web shooters in a large duffle bag also stuffed to the brim with various pamphlets regarding "Quirk safety."

After a short interrogation that he lied through his teeth in (he was now Ben Reilly, fifteen, once living in Flushing, Queens), but in his defense, he still had a secret identity to uphold.

After that, they let him go, giving him a few pamphlets and guides on how to utilize his 'Quirk' (in English, thankfully) responsibly, which he'd come to learn were special abilities these people had, things that gave them individuality and power, as well as status. He was also given a tour guide for the Shizuoka Prefecture, which he assumes is where he's supposed to be.

He didn't know whether or not the police didn't care or were just that irresponsible, but his release was almost immediate. Like he'd never even been there at all. He'd tried to explain his circumstances to the English-speaking interrogator (albeit stretching the truth just enough for him to not sound completely insane, but then again he didn't know what qualified for sane in this world, but best to play it safe), but was offered little advice in return.

The part that made it all worse though? The thing that really took the cake and led him into a full-on panic?

" _I have nowhere to go."_ He thought, staring up at the pink and white horizon in the distance, both hands in the pockets of his sweater. To anyone else, he looked as calm as can be, but really, he's just learned to hide his panic and concern after numerous mess-ups back... _home_.

Home, it seemed so distant to him. If his hunch was right, he wasn't anywhere near home, not by any stretch of the imagination. This could be some sort of parallel world, perhaps there was another Peter out there, with no knowledge of his counterparts ordeal? Another Aunt May, another MJ or even another Nick Fury who doesn't know, nor care that he exists.

He's seen stranger. A literal Norse God, a symbiotic alien life form, a man made of pure electricity, these things had become a regular thing in his life. It wasn't too far out of this world to be, well, out of his world.

The question was how he even got there. Did he have any way of finding out? Could he possibly go back?

Was he stuck in a whole new world?

Was he alone?

Or maybe he's just dead and this is all some sort of post-mortem nightmare he's imagining.

He sighed and plopped down onto the concrete roof, the sun finally setting. He leaned back and shook off his bag, placing it under his head and using it as a makeshift pillow. He needed rest, a lot of it.

He hopes he'll wake up to the smell of his Aunt May's pancakes, or the sound of his alarm blaring in his ear, forcing him to pry himself off his bed and face the day.

He hopes...

* * *

 _He's running through a derelict city that used to be New York. It's falling apart, skyscrapers and the like tumbling down around him. All he can do is run. He doesn't bother to look back, he knows somehow that there's nothing he can look back_ to _._

" _You failed us!"_

 _Every turn he makes, every leap he takes, he can hear them, screaming in his head like a demonic chant that didn't seem to end._

" _You failed us!"_

 _He can see their faces in the glass that falls around him, where his own reflection should be. They look angry, furious at his failure. The faces of those he'd made promises to._

" _You failed us!"_

 _Daredevil, Captain Watson, Jean DeWolff, Harry Osborn, Eddie Brock, Mary Jane...he's failed them all. He deserves this. He deserves it for his failure. For his own ineptitude._

" _You failed us!"_

 _He's so very tired of running. He wants to stop, to breath. But when he does the chaos just gets worse. The buildings begin to ignite and fall with even greater force, and the only things keeping them even remotely standing is his constant running._

" _You failed us!"_

 _He trips. His jaw meets the cracked concrete floor and he tries to pry himself up, to keep going, no matter how much pain he's in. His legs are burning, he wishes they'd just fall off to spare him the trouble._

" _You failed-!"_

 _The screams stopped. He's still on the ground. It's silent, and for a single moment, the world isn't falling apart. It seems stable, calm. For once in his life he didn't have to keep running._

 _He's back to panicking when he feels an arm wretch him back up. It's cold, he notices._

 _He gasps when he looks into the eyes of the person. A familiar old face, one he fondly remembers smiling serenely, now wearing a furious scowl. Ben Parker, the first man he let die._

" _Don't you dare fail me." He's thrown forward, and the chaos starts again._

 _He wishes he could stop, because in the distance he can see a man in a long, black trench coat, with glowing yellow eyes and dark hair that went down his back, waiting for his arrival._

 _Somehow Peter knows, no matter what turns he's take, he'd also end up in the tall man's hands._

* * *

Peter shoots up, a yelp echoing in the wind. He's barely coherent for a good few seconds, still twisting and turning where he's sat. His breathing is fast and ragged, and he can feel a cold bead of sweat rolling down his forehead and inching its way over his eyebrow.

He groans, using the sleeve of his sweater to rub it off. He notices the sun, glaring down at him from its place above, and uses his arm to cover his eyes.

After he's adjusted, he stands up, stretching his limbs out, hearing small cracks and pops as his bones adjust back into place.

"Yeesh, woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, or in this case, the planet…"

His joke is met with no response, for there was no one around to hear it but himself. He sighs, leaning down and digging into his duffle bag, finding his web-shooters inside, alongside his tattered costume and the scattered pamphlets.

He internally thanks himself for implementing the hidden pockets in his suit along the waistband to hold the web shooter cartridges, he has enough to last him a good few days if he's unable to make anymore fluid.

He walks over to the edge of the building, hoodie over his head as an alternative for his mask, staring down at the quiet street below, examining the small groups of people, some looking so out of this world he couldn't even believe it, others looking as normal and human as can be. They spoke in a language he still didn't understand, making it seem even more otherworldly to the teen.

The buildings were high enough for web-slinging, so he had that.

But what else did he have? Nothing. He had no idea how to get around, no one to talk to, no one to call for help, and even if he did there's no real way he could. He was completely alone, in foreign lands among foreign people.

What was he to do?

"...I'll wing it. Not like it could get any worse."

With that, he makes a leap off the building, and a _THWIP_ sounds out, alerting some civilians down below.

It was a new day for a new man, and Peter Parker would carve his own path through this new, unusual life. He's done it before, and he can very well do it again.

 **End**

* * *

 **Extra:**

 **A Night to Remember, Part 1**

 _5 Months Earlier, roughly 3 months of being Spider-Man…_

It's a crisp afternoon. There's barely a cloud in the sky and the people of New York City are going about the usual hustle and bustle, mostly making their way home after a long work day.

Above them, a young man in spandex is pursuing another, older man wearing a purple and green costume that made him look like a demented elf, a goblin of sorts.

"Let's play a game! Rule one: Spidey must splat! Hyahahahaha!" The Green Goblin laughed maniacally, zipping through the air above the streets of Manhattan on his high-tech glider, rummaging through his satchel for whatever horrific weapon he wants to pull out next.

Spider-Man hung on the web attached the glider like a lifeline, trying his hardest to climb it and meet the villain mid-air, but wasn't getting any good results given the fact that they were moving at around 70 miles per hour and Peter wasn't sure when his arms would simply give out.

"Rule- _hng!-_ two! Ignore rule one!" He placed his feet on a nearby skyscraper, relying on his strength and adhesive ability to slow the glider down. His legs were digging into the concrete and glass, creating a long, deep scar in the building, and scraping off the bottom of his red boots. Despite the damage, the plan worked, and the glider had noticeably been moving slower.

"Rule three! Make Gobby look goof-AARGH!" He tried, with all his strength, to whip around and pull the glider back and fling it to the opposite direction from his place on the side of the building, but with his guard down, he was met with a green beam in the shoulder, fired from the Goblins index finger.

He let go of the webline attached to the glider, nursing the newly made burn on his shoulder. " _We've been at this for too long, if we keep up any longer people'll get hurt. I've got to get him running home, and fast. Think, Parker…"_ He saw the Goblin perform a U-turn in the air, rocketing back towards the teenage hero at astonishing speeds.

" _Think faster!"_ He hopped off the side of the building, letting the glider knock out a few bricks behind him as he fell to the street below. Before he could turn into a human pizza, he fired a web and held it in his fist, his momentum carrying him through the air.

"So why now huh Gobby? It ain't like you to just pop outta' the blue! You just to eager to see lil' ol' me?!" He yelled as he swung through the air, firing web after web while the Goblin rocketed across the sky behind him.

"Oh you'll find out soon enough Spider-Man, but not that soon! Oh no, I have something VERY special planned for tonight! So consider this-" He tapped his foot on the glider and Peter's spider-sense rang like never before. He whipped his head forward just as the building to his right _exploded_. He was flung through the air, impacting the skyscraper across it and smashing through the glass window into a typical office space. The workers were in a panic, scattering through the room and moving towards the exits when they noticed the injured hero and the quickly approaching villain.

"An invitation!" The Goblin hovered in front of the broken window and stared down at the teen, who was struggling to stand after having taken the brunt of that blast. Half of his mask has been singed off, the fire snuffed out during his landing.

"Now, Spider-Man, if you value the lives of over four-hundred people, you'll be seeing me at the Marriot Marquis at seven thirty PM, tonight. I promise, the entertainment will have you at the edge of your seat! Hyahahhahaahahaha!" Peter tried to read out toward him, shoot a web or make some kind of snarky retort, but he was too disoriented to even look at him straight.

Just like that, the Goblin was gone, the sound of his glider getting quieter and quieter the further it went.

" _The Marriott Marquis...wait, that's where-!"_

 _Earlier that week…_

" _Yeah, they're having the gala at the Marriott Marqui, the one by the Brooklyn Bridge? It's super fancy-so I was thinking if you, y'know, wanted to come as my plus one? Just so I don't have to make conversation with all've my dad's co-workers. I mean-I get that you're busy with, y'know, but if you could find the time..." Mary Jane Watson, daughter of NYPD Captain Philip Watson, was asking Peter Parker on a_ date _._

 _Well, she was asking him to go to a fancy party in Manhattan as her geeky best friend (who was a superhero in his spare time), but it was the closest thing to a date he's ever been offered._

 _Suffice to say, he was beyond excited._

" _Yes-I mean, yeah. Okay. Sure I'll be there, I'll uh-get a suit and-my camera! Yeah, I'll take some, uh, pics for the Bugle. Yeah."_

 _A beat._

" _Right! Yeah, for the bugle..." The redhead trailed off, turning on her heel and walking away. "I'll see you there, Pete!"_

" _Uh, yeah...see you there…dammit Parker, messed it up for yourself again…" He whispered that last part._

 _Now…_

"Oh no, no, no!" Before he knows it he's already leapt out of the building, swinging across the city faster than he thought he ever could. He has to move quickly, contact Fury;, the police, anyone.

" _Alright Gobby, I accept your invitation. I promise it'll end, tonight. And no one gets hurt!"_ An image of MJ flashed in his eyes for a billionth of a second. " _No one…"_

Tonight was the night that the Green Goblin went down. Permanently.

 **End**

* * *

 **Character Bio 1: Spider-Man of Earth-1387**

 **Full Name: Peter Parker**

 **Alias(es): Spider-Man**

 **Date of Birth: October 15th**

 **Age: 15**

 **Height: 5'3"** " _ **Aren't you a little short for a superhero?"**_

 **Weight: 117.3lb.**

 **Hair Color: Brown**

 **Eye Color: Hazel**

 **Blood Type: B**

 **Stats:**

 **Power: 4 / 5**

 **Speed: 5 / 5**

 **Technique: 3 / 5**

 **Intelligence: 5 / 5**

 **Cooperativeness: 2 / 5**

 **Author's Note: So, as many of you can tell so far, I'm basing this Peter more around the Ultimate version, my favorite Spider-Man run to date. I'm also throwing in some other concepts from other iterations of Spider-Man here and there to keep it fresh, to an extent. Things like the Spectacular Spider-Man cartoon, all 150 issues of Ultimate, and even Marvel Knights (by the fantastically detestable Mark Miller, yes that one.) I'm also twisting up certain aspects of the Spider-Man myth is as I go along to make a unique, but still likable and recognizable version of the character.**

 **In terms of how I felt writing this chapter? It was more a challenge of how well I can get through an introduction without being tempted to advance the plot TOO quickly, because frankly, I'm bad at it. It'll improve in quality once I get to the meat of the story (however I make no promises), for now, just digging through that epidermis carefully.**

 **Speaking of meat, Peter will be meeting up with Izuku and the rest of class 1-A later. Whether or not he'll be able to get into Yuuei remains to be seen, as I'd have to rework a good amount of what I have in mind. In fact, I'm thinking of pairing him up with one of the characters from Yuuei later on, but again, remains to be seen. This is a story centered around Peter Parker first and foremost, and while Izuku is still the MC of his own story, I want to keep Peter's life a separate thing up until a certain point where worlds truly do collide.**

 **The extras are mostly there for me to practice for what's to come, as the story gets more action packed and the plot grows more tense. I do enjoy twisting the Spider-Man mythos a bit, if you noticed the pretty obvious change in a detail to Mary Jane's character taken from Gwen Stacy. It'll also be more effective when I start to explore Peter's sorrow and homesickness, as I've built the life he lived, and loved, before being dragged into a whole new mess.**

 **Many thanks to everyone who left a review last chapter, this' all helping me improve in my writing style immensely, one day I'll probably even get to be halfway decent!**

 **And we'll, uh, that's about it. Leave a review so I can know how bad I am at this, please.**

 **G'bye.**


	3. Chapter 3

**III - Getting Nowhere, Omnidirectionally**

 **Warning: Questionable quality, focused less on development and more on self-improvement this time around.**

One night, in the Shizuoka Prefecture, a corner store was being robbed.

Three men, one ,with glowing blue hair that spiked up in all directions, another wii the head of a gecko, and another, larger, balder one with what looked like shoulder pads implanted under his skin, were raiding the supplies and register, and an old man was huddled up to a corner, whimpering as a myriad of glowing, grey blocks circled around his body, ready to bash him into a bloody pulp.

Noya Naohiro, the owner of this store and the old man in question, was a simple, honest worker. He never had a bombastic or amazing quirk, he had the simple ability of being able to hear the thoughts of non-human animals (it did help him better take care of his cats.) Long past the halcyon days of his youth, he's opted to live the sunset years of his life working hard, with the support of his son, who's an equally hard working in Osaka. Yes, Noya's lived a long, happy, albeit boring life, and was only three years away from a full retirement.

But none of that was really important information, was it? No, this story focuses on the person entering the story. The boy out of his own world, the refugee from another dimension, Peter Parker.

"Uh...h-ell-o! M-My na-at-ame isssss Spider-Man!" The thugs turned in seconds to the front door, noticing the speaking broken Japanese, who was staring into a tattered, dirty tourist's book for English to Japanese translation he found in the dumpster of what he assumed was a hotel. He wore a thick grey hoodie with creme colored cargo pants, as well as a pair of stained, solid white sneakers. Under his hood was a red mask that was a little worse for wear, with a messy web pattern that traced the face of it, and two large, white lenses with black rims around them.

The taller one with the far too broad shoulders sighed, turning to his partners, the lizard headed one raising the register while the one with blue hair detained the old man. They both tilted their heads towards the young lad, who was flipping the pages of his book as if he had no care in the world.

"Well-go get'im!" The gecko snapped in a whisper, and the burly man stomped towards the smaller than average teen, casting a shadow over him.

"Y'came to the wrong store kid, nothing personal." The two thugs heard their teammate speak from the other side of the store, now back to their duties. They'd figured that he'd be done in seconds with the little runt, and once he was they'd be done with their haul. After that they had a van waiting around the corner for a subtle getaway vehicle, and with the shortage of heroes that patrolled so late at night, they'd be home free.

Which is what would've been the plan, had their brawny buddy not been sent flying back to the opposite end of the store, a web following and pinning him to the wall upside down. This sent the two criminals into a panic. The one with blue hair placing his palm on the counter, letting it separate into many pixel-like blocks and disperse around him. They both turn to the teen, whose arms were held out in front of him, his middle and ring fingers pressing down on his wrists, thumb, index and pinky out.

"H-He-Heeello. My na-ay-ame is Spider-Man." His mask curved and they could somewhat make out a smile under it.

All Hell broke lose in that instance. The cubes flew at the young man like a 15th century execution, the older man's blue hair glowing like a vibrant blue light bulb as he utilized his quirk.

" _Y'know, I miss my old villains."_ Spider-Man thought as he ran forward, diving, and then twisting his body in the air in an almost inhuman way, the cubes making numerous _THUD_ noises as they impacted the wall, sinking into it. " _I mean, Mysterio was more than a bit embarrassing, but really, Captain Shoulder Pads and the Pixelator are a lot worse. And not even in the good way."_ He mocked them in his mind, as he landed in a spider like crouch, firing a web at the gecko headed man's face and jerking it down, applying his own superhuman strength to the pull and causing the reptilian thief to bash his head into the register, knocking him out. " _Plus, s'not like some of my baddies were even trying. Seriously, if you're less trouble than a guy who goes by Doctor Octopus, you must really suck."_ He charged at the man with blue hair, bouncing and dashing between the floor, walls and ceiling to throw him off. Finally, before the thug knew it, the boy from Forest Hills was less than a foot away, crouched on the ground. Peter fired another web at the man's left foot, tugging at it and making it slam into his right, throwing off his balance and sending him tumbling to the ground.

" _Then again, do these guys count as villains? They're just petty thugs around here, nothing special about them being, well, special."_ Before the man Peter had dubbed the 'Pixelator' could even attempt to get up, his arms were pulled by two webs attached to the ceiling, hoisting him and keeping him off the ground, stationary. The last thing he saw before he passed out was a fist rapidly approaching his nose.

" _Probably have to be a bit more conservative with my webbing. Have nothing to make more. Gonna have to remember to whip up larger batches, once I get home… If I get home."_ He sighed, admiring his handy work. The old man, who was cowering in the corner, stared at him incredulously, getting up slowly as the cubes fell around him. "Thank you young man! I-I owe you my life, if you hadn't come here, who knows what they would've done to me!" The old man smiled, laughing the way people would after a close call, and thanking the young man who was rummaging through the shelves.

" _C'mon please tell me he has the spicy sweet chili kind, I've been craving tho-"_ For the second time that night, his Spider-Sense went off, alerting him to something headed his way, something large and something fast.

The old man screamed for him to move just as he leapt into the air, attaching himself to the ceiling as the man with the large shoulder pads charged shoulder-first into the shelf he was looking through. It shattered like glass, the man's momentum carrying him forward until he smashed through true glass window of the store.

"You're gonna pay for this you lil' brat! Before a hero gets here I'll-I'll kill you dead!" The burly man screamed as he slid to a halt on the street, nearly smashing into a car. Spider-Man dropped down, landing in a crouched position atop the pile of debris in the store.

" _Right, can never be that easy, just my luck…"_ Peter thought, the lenses of his eyes squinting. He didn't understand what the man was saying, but he took it as a threat nonetheless.

The man runs his leg along the concrete, ready to charge at the boy again like a raging bull. Peter braces himself. The larger man is moving at astonishing speeds, creating footprints in the stone below his feet. Seconds before impact, the young vigilante leaps up yet again, but the larger man anticipated this, grabbing the minuscule boy's leg as he moved. He would have tore it off if the young vigilante were any weaker.

" _Aw, maaaan."_ Peter thought seconds before the man whipped around, throwing him like a fastball out the hole he'd created earlier. "GAHK!" He spluttered in pain as he hit the roof of a car, turning it into convertible as he took the windshield and roof with him through the air. It had thankfully broken his fall to some extent, acting as a shield for his back as he rolled to a halt.

"Ow…" Peter writhed on the ground, his body aching from the impact, the larger man stepping towards him slowly. The teen rolled out of the way of his large foot, getting into a crouch on the street.

The old man watched in awe as the boy leapt up atop the man, scaring him momentarily as he tried to pry the arachnid teen off his body. Peter fired webbing at the ground, stretching it around his body as he climbed him as if he was an actual house spider. It was somewhat horrifying to look at.

Within minutes of struggling, Spider-Man had fully enveloped the man in a thick cocoon of webbing, a grin under his mask. "Catches thieves, just like flies!" He yelled in English, causing the old man and the detained criminal to look at him confusedly. "Right-you guys don't understand me...welp." He reeled his fist back and threw a punch at the man with the bulging shoulders. The webbing-covered thief was thrown back, some webs detaching from the force and letting him fall on the ground, the webs on his back sticking to the ground behind him.

Peter turned to the old man, who was staring at him incredulously. He put his hand out, aiming a thin line of webbing at a bag of chips that's landed on the ground, pulling it into his hand.

He gave the old man a two-fingered salute and leapt away, swinging into the night.

* * *

Peter sighed, feeling guilty for what he'd just done. Sure, he has no money, nor did he have a place to stay, plus he did save the man's life for God's sake. But that didn't make taking favors for his acts of heroism a morally sound thing, in his mind at least.

He sat cross-legged on yet another empty rooftop, his duffle bag off to the side. He was munching in a bag of chips from some brand he couldn't really name, staring up at a billboard advertising a bulky, blonde hero, who's hair shot up in two directions, wearing a red, white, blue and yellow suit, fleshing his Herculean muscles and smiling with pearly white teeth.

"I wonder what's your deal." Peter spoke to no one in particular as he stared, hand idly reaching into the bag and stuffing chips into his mouth. "Seen you around in enough ads to figure you're the big guy in town, the most super of super heroes…"

He munched on the salty confections, rubbing his hand on his pant leg to clean up some of the dust.

"Once I get home I gotta tell MJ all about this place. She really does love hearing all my stories." He muttered to himself, hugging his legs close to his body as he stared up at the bright, cheerful visage of All Might. He enjoyed the peace and quiet, somewhat, it gave him time to think about his next moves, where he'd go, or try to go. He's hopeful that one day, eventually, he'll find a way back home, come back from the dead and give Aunt May the biggest hug he's ever given another person and kiss MJ under the bleachers of Midtown High's Football field for as long as he physically could.

But for now, that was all a distant dream. A goal he intended to reach with due time. It'd take effort, it'd take time, and it'd take a helluva lotta' convincing the kind of people he needs to help him get there. But he's sure he'll find a way.

He always does.

He yawned, turning his attention to the night sky. If he could guess the time, it was probably somewhere around 8:30, not exactly time to hit the hay just yet. Plus, his body still hasn't acclimated to the new time zones. But what was he to do on such a lovely night? What was there to do in Japan when you had nothing to live off of? Why did he have to wake up in Japan, anyways? Why here, if all places-heck, he wasn't anywhere near Japan! He was in New York City, on the other side of the planet! He sighed once more, standing up as slowly as possible, hoisting his duffle bag up alongside him. He walked across the rooftop, one hand in his pocket and the other grabbing the strap of his bag. He thinks he should find a soup kitchen of some kind, a place to stay and get food and maybe some useful assistance from a kind stranger.

Peter leaned forward, thinking about what his next move would be. " _I can't keep exploiting anyone I help out, and I can't go around stealing stuff. Maybe I could find work-somewhere discreet, enough to get myself fed…"_ He furrowed his brow, his mind going back to the old man in the shop he'd saved earlier that night. He wondered if the man would need any help, given that the store itself was roughed up a bit. The boy would have to check in the morning, perhaps he was getting somewhere.

He crouched, stalking the city in front of him from the ledge. " _Figure if I've got nothing to do, might as well make myself useful. Not like any of the 'heroes' I've seen around have."_ He thought bitterly as he kept a watchful eye and an open ear for anything even remotely suspicious

He thought of the other heroes of this world, if they ever took time out of their schedules to focus on the little crimes, the things that people who usually sat on rooftops and sulked about how much things sucked did. Based on what he's seen, they tend to go for the larger villains, the ones that make a big deal about just how darn evil they are. The heroes seem to act more like celebrities more than they do defenders of society, often in magazines he spotted around, large billboards advertising some hair care products or a brand of coffee. Heck, he even saw one featuring the weird blonde rip-off of Giant Man, the one who helped arrest him!

"Frankly, I think I can make my hair look a lot prettier than hers without the help of her produc-" He stopped, his Spider-Sense causing a tingling sensation in his mind, causing his head to whip to the side, looking towards the perceived danger. In the distance he saw a large, perfectly carved cube rocketing down toward the building he was standing on. His eyes widened and he leapt off, seconds before the rock hit, skidding across the rooftop and carving a path through it, bouncing off and skidding across the building adjacent to it, with its momentum slowed, it hit a brick structure and sunk into it, finally stopping.

Peter witnessed it from his place on a light pole, crouched and staring up in shock. "The heck was that?!" He yelled in English, causing the many already confused and worried civilians who were watching the same thing as him to turn some of their attention to the foreigner.

Peter was shocked, to say the least. He'd never seen anything of that scale so late at night, as the larger villain attacks he'd observed usually took place in broad daylight. But no, not this time. He could see even more cubes of equal size in the distance, floating around and impacting buildings wildly. There were screams and yells in the distance, people in trouble, people who needed _help_.

" _Looks like a job for-Spider-Man!"_ With that thought in mind, he swung off down the street. If he was lucky, there was already a hero there that he could give an assist, if he even needed to.

* * *

Peter needed a hero.

Apparently one of the thieves he'd apprehended earlier that night had escaped custody and was running wild. There were large, perfectly cube-shaped carvings in the middle of the street, building walls and windows smashed to pieces with perfectly cut cubes sticking out of him. His hair was glowing a vibrant blue like never before as millions of little and large blocks formed in a tornado of chaos around him. The police, as well as a single hero that Peter noted looked like a robot fireman, were the only ones on the scene. The hero with hoses for arms was far too busy saving civilians, whereas the police were doing their best to contain the situation. They were at a stand still, and Spider-Man thought he was the only one that could tip the scales.

The Parker boy was on the scene in minutes, and in seconds was already being beaten. The blue haired criminal had whacked him with an especially large cube, smashing the young man into a building and under hundreds of pounds of debris.

It took two hours. Two hours of Peter being trapped, unsure of the situation outside and only relying on his enhanced strength to keep him alive. He silently thanked God above that he didn't get stabbed with a piece of rebar or especially sharp concrete.

It took two hours for Peter to finally pass out from lack of oxygen. His final thoughts before he fell unconscious were wondering if this is where he'd actually die.

* * *

Peter woke with a start, in an unfamiliar place yet again. It was different, this time. He was met with a plain white hospital room, a the feeling of a soft bed under him.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, grunting as he felt pain shooting through his muscles. He'd been trying his hardest to push through the debris for too long, and his body felt like it could fall apart any moment. He looked around, noticing his duffel bag, the hand of his tattered costume sticking out next to his clothes and web shooters

He hears the door creak open.

His head snapped to the side, staring st the person entering. It was a nurse, a woman with long, black hair, wearing medical scrubs. She let out a short gasp as she caught sight of the brown haired lad, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Uh…How long've I been out?" Peter ran his hand through his hair, blinking away the tiredness. The nurse hurried out of the room, leaving the poor teen confused. "Alright, that's unhelpful…" He turned and stared out the window. He recognized this as still being Shizuoka, the buildings were familiar. In fact, he'd passed by here at some point while he was getting in some swing time in-between his struggle for urban survival.

"Some other hero must've stopped the guy from last night-dug me up and dropped me off here. Great, now I'm gonna have to have even MORE questions asked-good job Pete." He sighed, putting his head in his hands. "Maybe I could just jump out the window and swing away, find some other hole to crawl in-"

"Now let's not get hasty!" A clearly Japanese voice sounded out as a man stepped into the room. Peter's head snapped up, blinking confusedly. A man stepped in with-

" _What am I looking at?"_ A blonde man wearing a leather jacket and pants, his hair shooting up into the air as if it defied gravity itself, along with a small, split mustache on his upper lip. There was some kind of stereo-like apparatus around his neck, and he wore a pair of white framed glasses with yellow-tinted lenses. He wore a goofy smile as he stepped into the room, looking over at the boy.

"You'd just be makin' a looot more work for me n' my friends-and that'd just be uncool, kid!" Present Mic practically yelled in a jaunty, excited voice, giving the boy an exaggerated and dramatic thumbs up. Peter had finally realized that this was where his life had jumped the shark entirely.

"Now-let's get to the important part!" The man whipped out a yellow folder from seemingly nowhere, labeled with lettering Peter couldn't read. "The police around here've been more than a bit worried about your flippant abuse of your quirk, and it all topped off last night!" The man straightened, his voice lowering several dozen decibels. "Err, but really. If you'd been left under that debris any longer last night you would've died."

It was quiet for a few seconds too long.

"But hey! You're here and that's all that matters! Now, the important stuff!" He flipped the file open, holding it up for Peter to see. In it was a number of pictures, criminals he recognized from previous nights, ones he left tangled in webbing to be arrested. "While all your heroic acts've gone recognized, we can't have some vigilante kid running around freely, yo!" He shut the file, tossing it aside. "Plus you're also guilty of feeding false info to the cops, somethin' reeeal unheroic if you ask me, Pete!" The older man snickered at the boy's shy reaction. Peter lowered his head and seemed to curl into his blanket, cursing himself for talking to, well, himself.

His head snapped up, staring up at the pro hero and pointing an accusing finger. "Hey! Who are you anyways! What's this all about?! Planning to arrest me?!"

Present Mic simply laughed, something the younger man found more than a bit insulting. "Nah don't worry 'bout it kid! I'm Present Mic, certified pro hero, and I'm here to make you an offer! But first~!" He pulled up a chair, turning it backwards and sitting on it, resting his head on the back rest. "I've gotta know everything about you that you aren't telling."

Peter considered it for a moment. This was the only chance he really had at finding help. If he lied, it could cause trouble later, and if he didn't, well...he didn't know. Perhaps the offer the man was going to make would help him get closer, closer to finally being able to go home.

He sighed, looking up at the blonde hair with a straight face.

"My name is Peter Benjamin Parker…"

 **End**

* * *

 **Extra: Warning, Short**

"Uh...lil help?" Spider-Man was in a bind. Well, literally. He'd had a short-lived run-in with the Ringer just seconds ago, the villain in question passed out on the street with several, bloody teeth around his head. The young hero was standing awkwardly atop a truck that's been tipped over sideways, carrying what he assumed was thousands of dollars in cold hard cash.

Daredevil rubbed the bridge of his nose. He's caught the boy in such compromising positions before. Being tangled in his own webbing, surrounding by the bodies of numerous unconscious gangbangers he was planning to interrogate, tumbling off of buildings and into dumpsters, accidentally breaking into a 24 Hour Fitness gym to fight off some fool calling himself 'Kangaroo'. The list went on. Spider-Man had surfaced just weeks ago and the blind lawyer, among others in the superhero community already _hated_ him. They hated his attitude, his lackadaisical approach, and his jokes. Oh God, the jokes. He was too young for all this, too green, and needed some sort of wake up call.

"So uh...I know this is like the sixth time this' happened but could-could ya'just I dunno, bail me out again? This once? I-I mean I know it's asking a lot but c'mon! Do it for a fellow red wearin' vigilante?"

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen walked towards the unconscious criminal, sighing. The police would be there soon, and should they find Spider-Man and the Ringer this way, it was likely they'd arrest the poor idiot boy.

"...Please?" The lad tried to shake out of the metal rings binding his arms, the edges digging into his skin and chest, crushing him slightly more. "Kinda gettin' real right here-tighter than usual, what with the spandex and all, hnng!"

"...You're insufferable." Daredevil parkoured onto the truck, sighing yet again, helping him out of the rings, slowly tugging on them to make them loose, letting each one tumble to the ground around the young man's feet.

The Spider-Man sighed in relief. "Phew! Thanks for the help, hey listen if you ever need help with like, a case or whatever you can give me a call-"

"No."

"But I mean if you need some extra muscle I can-"

"I will put these rings back on and leave you here to the police if you don't shut up right this instant."

"..."

"Good. Now get the Hell out of here before _I_ arrest you."

 **End**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Made the extra short this time, mostly due to the fact that I didn't want it to distract from me moving the plot train forward, as well as working on how I write my action scenes. I cut it short at the hospital room cuz I didn't know where else I could go from there, and I'm still unsure.**

 **Nothin' much else to say, I enjoyed writing this this far more than the last two chapters, mostly cause I really don't enjoy writing introductory chapters as much as reading them, also part of why I feel this chapter is just objectively better than the last two. I hope I can continue improving as I go on, any advice is most appreciated.**

 **I rushed the pre hospital 'Peter gets pummeled' scene just because, as I was writing it, it didn't really come out as exciting or good by any means. I figured I'd get past it.**

 **In terms of how realistic all this in in terms of the situation, well, it isn't. A lot of the decisions here are purely for plot development, so pick out those plot holes like crazy for me. In the end it's all to get to point B from point A, and from point B we can make a far superior trip to point C.**

 **In terms of Peter's combat style in the beginning, I'm going for a Peter that's less inclined to pull his punches, usually going for knock-outs or** _ **slightly**_ **debilitating injuries rather than just binding people up or causing slight property damage to fight, I.E. webbing up a TV and using it as a wrecking ball of sorts. It fits more with the MHA world as a whole I feel.**

 **For the pairing I dunno what I wanna do yet. I'm debating between Peter and Kyōka or Peter and Itsuka, should he be placed in 1-B, I'd like t'know what you guys think about that. Could be neither. Could be no one. Dunno yet.**

 **Also saw Homecoming twice. Phenomenal film, best Spidey movie in years, and as of now my favorite MCU film to date.**

 **Well, guess that's it. See'ya later.**


	4. Chapter 4

**IV - Somewhere, Over the Rainbow...**

 **Warning: Blegh, still crawling my way through the introductory chapters. Also please read Author's Note.**

 **Disclaimer: Y'know stating that I don't own anything seems pointless to me. It's kind of obvious, if I WERE Kohei Horikoshi or Stan Lee or some horrific amalgamation of both, this would be canon. And better.**

He was Peter Parker, ersatz Spider-Man. That's what he told Present Mic. He also told him everything else. Where he came from, where he got his powers, some of the things he's seen and people he's met. For the first time since arriving in Japan, he's opened himself up to someone. Shown his weakness, and shared his dreams… Is what Present Mic thought. Because really, if Peter told someone the FULL truth, would anyone believe him. I mean, I know I wouldn't.

He considered it, though. Spinning his tale of adventure and sorrow, of trials and tribulations and his eventual demise, and his sudden, unexpected transportation to an all new world.

But no, at the last moment he decided to tell an entirely different story. He was an orphan now, born and raised in New York City. He lived a 'rough and tough' life trying to be a hero in a city so densely populated will heroes and villains alike, while trying to balance that with school. All before hitching a ride on a plane and flying his way to Japan, for...reasons, where he felt he could truly make a difference.

Of course, the story had many holes in it. Inconsistencies, a lot of questions to be asked. But were they?

Nope. Not one. Not even the simplest questions were considered that he knew of.

* * *

 _Meanwhile, One Week Earlier with Present Mic…_

"So he's lying right?" The blonde man spoke into the communicator on his ear as he stepped out of the hospital room.

"Yep." He heard the voice of Nedzu on the other side of the communicator say.

"Any chance the kid'll tell us the truth?"

"Perhaps in the future. Best not to harass him about it for now, he seems to have been through quite a lot… For now, we keep him under strict surveillance. Putting him somewhere we can watch him is the best way to do it." Nedzu spoke, eliciting a nod from Mic. They couldn't fully trust the boy just yet, but for now, it was best to take advantage of the his talent and ambition. Perhaps he could be a great hero one day after all.

* * *

 _Now…_

Despite the situation being as insane and honestly bleak as it was, Peter had to admit, he's lucked out lately. More than he has ever before. He's alive, kept his limbs, and has a chance back home, speaking of…

Because of his apparent lack of any known living relatives, as well as the sheer distance from home coupled with his recent acts of heroism, the boy was offered housing. A small apartment in Musutafu, fifth floor. He'd be living there until further notice as an effectively emancipated teenager living in Japan with not a clue of how to really live. He didn't have to worry about money, he was to receive minor financial assistance each month whereas most of his basic amenities were paid, food, clothes and other essentials were up to him entirely.

Then, there was that offer that Present Mic spoke of, one that intrigued Peter to no end. This world was simply full of surprises and this one didn't fall short. He remembers it like it was last week, which it was...

* * *

 _Last Week…_

"Super… hero school?" Peter spoke slowly, leaning forward on the hospital bed, both hands folded together in his lap.

"Not just a superhero school kid! THE superhero school! I'm offerin' you a full scholarship to attend at the one, the only, U.A.!" He yelled the introduction for the second time so far, spreading his hands in the air to emphasize just how grand this was. "There you'll be gettin' some of the best hero and general education there is, from some of the best pro heroes in Japan!" He continued showboating, the room darkening as a spotlight appeared over him and Peter, shining upon both. The young vigilante had no idea where they came from. And was that an orchestra in the background? "So whaddya' say kid, you up for the challenge of a lifetime?!" He pointed a finger at the confused looking teen, who kept one eyebrow raised incredulously throughout the ordeal.

"...Sure?"

"NICE!"

* * *

 _Now..._

And that's what happened. Peter would take the entrance exam in a few weeks, just before the school year begins, for now he had little to worry about other than learning the native language and finding a way back home.

" _Alright Pete, gotten this far. Now what?"_ He paced across his ceiling, dressed in a black T-shirt and boxers. He had a hand on his chin, his dark brown hair flapping down like short vines hanging from a tree. The apartment was plain, with crime colored, dull walls and minimal amount of furnishing, including a bed, drawer, closet, television, kitchen, etcetera.

On his bed were several books provided to him, one on learning Japanese, a tour guide, a fresh jar of newly made web fluid courtesy of himself, a sewing machine, and numerous other books for studying whatever was going to be on the U.A. entrance exam, which, from what little he could gather, he was pretty much set for. A+ student after all. Though his comprehension of the language may hamper his grades overall, but he was working on that.

He was wary of the school itself, whether or not it'd help really. It would be nice to have some real social interaction with people his age, but he doesn't want to get distracted, though he could get to meet one of the head honcho scientists of this world, that'd be the perfect situation. Perhaps there's a Reed Richards out there, or Tony Stark that still exists even in this world. Perhaps… perhaps he wouldn't even get home? What would he do then? Forget about Aunt May, MJ, Uncle Ben and just...restart? Become a 'pro hero' and live never knowing what happened without him around, with no hope of ever returning home, his real home. Leaving the people he cares about at the mercy of Norman or Eddie, letting them die because he wasn't there to save them? Because he was too weak and too stupid to survive?

He shook the morbid thoughts from his mind, sighing. He dropped down to the floor, the wood creaking slightly under his weight. He looked around his relatively empty apartment, fighting back the loneliness and hopelessness that begun to set in. "Screw this." He grumbled, grabbing ahold of his web shooters and halfway sewn costume. He quickly pulled the spandex around him and placed the silver contraptions over his wrists.

He walked over to the window, looking out into the city at night. Thankfully, the buildings here were just tall enough for web-slinging as well.

He held in his breath as he opened the window, preparing to take the leap. He placed one foot on the edge, peeking his head out and looking at the street below. As much as he's gotten used to it, there was still some vertigo whenever he decided to take leaps like this. A slight fear that he wouldn't fire his webbing in time, or he'd forgotten to fill his web shooters despite the ten or so times he's gone ahead and checked if the cartridges were secured.

He shut his eyes and let gravity work its magic.

* * *

Well this wasn't particularly helpful.

He was hunched over the ledge of a building, staring down at the street. It was a familiar feeling at this point, sitting and sulking as he looked over the surreal world of super powered civilians. He'd done it so many times it was getting old at this point.

"Jeeze I miss home." He sighed, firing a webline at the nearby apartment complex, swinging off it. The people below observed him with wide eyes, wondering whether or not he was some new pro hero. "It's like there's no one around to pound when I really need to let out some steam around here. Back home there was some psycho trying to rob a bank every day, and this is a world where EVERYONE has powers!" He swung on a flagpole, building momentum and firing a webline yet again. "You'd figure there'd be more crazies out there to wallop!"

Of course, he knows it's illegal, but he's not really looking to put on a show as much as he is to let out some anger by beating on some muggers. If he could find one he'd be in and out, quick as lightning, and that's a very hard _if_ at this point.

He landed atop a large billboard, perched on it like a spider on a tree branch. He sighed, staring out into the distant cityscape. "I mean, am I crazy for missing the busier nights? The ones where I came back almost dying? It isn't that insane, right-I mean, maybe a bit but…" He skid to a halt on another rooftop, releasing his web.

He realized again, that he was all alone.

With both shoulders slumped, he trudged to the rooftop exit. He put his back to the wall, sliding down the brick and curling his knees against his chest.

" _Haven't done this in awhile but uh…"_ He placed his arms over his knees, staring down at the concrete floor, " _hey, God or, Odin or whoever's listening… I know you've made it your day job to screw me over in the worst of ways. You've had me beaten, bashed, poisoned, bonded to a symbiotic alien that was kept in a basement for fifteen years and tried to kill me after it bonded to one of my best friends...but I just...I just think it's gotten too bad this time. The jokes gone too far..."_

He looks up to the full moon. It's so very unlike his own in a strange way, much like the rest of this world. The texture, the light and aesthetic of it all just felt...off. It seems so very animated, surreal, but at the same time painfully familiar.

" _I just wanna go home."_

For the first time in a very long time, Peter felt truly, entirely helpless. There was no shoulder to cry on but his own.

He heard the doorknob of the rooftop exit turning. His head snapped to the side, the eyes of his mask widening. Out stepped an old man, white hair falling out slightly wearing a pair of thinly framed glasses and a wooly jacket, along with a comfy pair of pajama pants and slippers. In his hand was a cigarette, and in the other a lighter. His eyes widened along with the young man's, the two getting into an intense stare-off. Peter could just barely recognize that face, but Noya could recognize that mask anywhere.

"Well-what a small world, huh?" The old man speaks in Japanese. Peter can't understand him at all, the words falling on deaf ears. Noya flashes him a thin, but joyful smile. "I didn't think I'd ever seeya' again kiddo, but here you are! On my roof, while I'm tryin' to get a smoke…"

Something about his demeanor reminds Peter of someone else, someone he held dear to him.

"Thank you again for stopping those hooligans from raiding my shop, don't know what I'd do if they'd taken everything I had. But you were there, and you took a helluva hit for it...thank you, Spider-Man was it?" He leaned against the wall over the quiet boy, sighing. "Mind if I smoke? Wife doesn't let me use these inside…" He held up the cigar and the lighter, nudging his head to the side. Peter got the message and nodded, showing that he had no problem with it.

Noya noticed the boy's sluggishness, the aura of sadness that permeated around him. The way he's curled into himself, as if he's afraid of something coming for him. The old man knows he can't really understand him, he could tell from the way he spoke back in his store, but he speaks anyways. "You alright, kid?"

Peter understands it as a question, just not what he's asking. In response, he simply shrugs one shoulder.

The old man slides down the concrete wall slowly, trying not to bust a hip in the process. He sits down a safe distance from the teen, still smoking. He doesn't speak a word, knowing it'd be pointless.

It was then that Peter learned that even the presence of a stranger could help ease his nerves.

* * *

Peter spends the next few days studying.

He's learned the very basics of Japanese at this point. He knows his greetings, short conversation and the occasional insult if he ever needed to get quippy. It's going very well in that department. Studying for the exam has been a bit of an ordeal however, as he also needed to educate himself in the basics of Quirk laws as well as the profession of a hero and the ethics they had to uphold.

It was like reading Captain America's memoirs. With significantly less patriotism.

Occasionally he can't help himself. It's become too much of a habit to slip on his costume and leap out into the city. But rather than his usual routine and beating up hooligans willing to rob old men blind, he's become something of a community service member. Peter needed some human interaction, as well as language practice. It really was a win-win-win situation for everyone involved, and the people of Musutafu were greeted to a more friendly neighborhood Spider-Man than an amazing, sensational and/of spectacular version of him.

* * *

"Thank you so much young man!" The middle-aged woman grasped the spandex-clad boy's hand in both her own, giving it a steady shake. They were at the door of her apartment, dozens of grocery bags piled up next to them. Peter had seen her struggling quite a bit with them, and dropped down to help from his place on high. His costume had been fully repaired too, though it has its fair share of visible patches and loose strings.

"Y-Youu are very welcahm!" He's still working on it. His speech is broken and abnormal, constantly tripping over words and mispronouncing things. He sounded a bit funny to most, but no one bothered to say anything about it. They just appreciated his help from time to time.

Peter felt fulfilled every time he did these things. He felt better about himself.

It wasn't like there wasn't the occasional mishap…

* * *

"I-ow- I am so very apologehtack miss! Puh-Lisa fahgive my-"

"Stop talking like that you hooligan! And put my damn groceries down!" An old woman, roughly a foot or so shorter than him was whacking him all over, not with a cane, but a bony protrusion that extended from her forearm. Peter had tried his hardest to help the woman cross the street whilst carrying such a problematic amount of grocery bags.

"I weell if youuu shtop striking me!"

Of course it wasn't like he didn't have his fun from time to time, albeit being very discreet about it…

* * *

A young man ran through a dimly lit alleyway, another behind him with sharp, horrific teeth following close behind. He'd been walking in a not-so-popular area far too late at night, late enough for no one to hear him scream.

The man chasing behind him had claws extending from his toes and fingernails, and an eery, inhuman smile on his face. "Why run?! I just wanna have some fun kiddo! Hehe!"

Suddenly, a glob of webbing had found itself firmly attached to his face. The young victim turned to see the criminal clawing and pulling at the white substance, screaming profanities from under it.

"You luk leeike a...pineapple." The Spider-Man said slowly, scrolling through a small, but thick book on the Japanese language.

The young man felt relief run through his body as he watched the man previously chasing him get curbstomped. Yes, Peter couldn't resist these kinds of things. It was practically in his genes as much as his powers were…

It wasn't like there wasn't the occasional sticky situation, so to speak…

* * *

"I aym sho, sho sohrree." Peter spoke, voice muddled by the 'scarf' he was wrapped. Around him and his captor some contained, albeit wild chaos. There were people getting up after a harsh explosion, caused by the villain's less than subtle reaction to a sudden glob of webbing hitting his face. The same villain who was passed out on the ground after a short-lived fight with Eraserhead.

His hair was levitating as he stared at the young man in spandex, recognizing him immediately. He's read the files and spoken to Mic, and knew that there was a chance this boy would be his student in the coming weeks.

"That was most. Illogical."

Spider-Man was getting some _reeeeal_ Daredevil flashbacks here.

* * *

Peter yawned as he sat up. Today was the day of his exam, the one that would land him in a school for aspiring superheroes. He looked around his dimly lit apartment, tapping on the alarm clock on his nightstand. The sunbeams were glaring through the thin curtains, bits of sunshine cutting through them and illuminating the room.

He slipped out of bed and stretched out his arms and legs, then running a hand through his hair. He spent the next several minutes quietly, thoughtlessly getting ready. Brushing his teeth, putting on a change of clothes, and readying everything he felt he'd need. He knew enough Japanese at this point that he could hold a solid conversation for more than five minutes or so, so there was nothing to worry about there. He was more worried about he 'physical' examination, the one that would determine their combat prowess.

Of course he's had more fights with people twice his strength than he could count, but he's gotten rusty in these weeks. He hasn't trained or honed his skills as effectively as he could before, and lord knows if these other kids had been training their whole lives for this kind of thing with whatever amazing powers they had.

He's sure he'll do fine.

He opens his apartment door and looks down the empty hallway. For a moment he turns back to look inside, as if he's about to say something, a goodbye or a wish for good luck. But there's no one there. No one to support him.

He sighed, closing the door with a soft 'thud'.

" _Today's the day Pete. The first real step forward… I can feel it."_

Spider-Man was more than ready.

* * *

 _Meanwhile, New York City, Manhattan…_

He sighed as he stared off into the night, the city below his monolithic tower illuminated by the billions of lights shining from apartments and billboards and vehicles alike. It was beautiful, a true showing of how far the human race had come in the way of technology and civilization.

That was how it looked to most, at least. To him, this was a fraud. A parody of the real city, the one his family helped build from the ground-up. This was a city built by 'heroes', people with 'quirks' that gave them the illusion of power, that allowed them the virtue of ignorance at the fact that they were all under his thumb. This was not New York City. This was not his home. He didn't care, though. So long as he held power and sat in his ivory palace on high, he was content. That was the lie he told himself everyday, but in the end he knew he missed _him_. His jokes, his anger, his sorrow, his struggling as he felt purple-gloved hands wrap around his throat and try to _wring the life out of him_. He missed it so much.

Norman Osborn missed his son.

He felt a small vibration in his pocket, rolling his eyes as he reached into it. It was probably a text from 'Harry' about something so trivial and time consuming he almost wanted to pound the boy into a bloody pulp. He tempered himself, however . He held back when he needed to blend in, pretend that he was 'Norman Osborn, CEO of Oscorp, the company that specializes in equipping heroes with state-of-the-art crime stopping technology!'

It made him want to vomit just thinking about it.

It wasn't a text from Harry, however. It was a text from one of the administrators for Oscorp. Japan, located in Tokyo. It's Stromm, asking him if they plan to invest resources into helping local heroes in the country work more efficiently. Of course, Norman would like to rip his arms off for even thinking of something so stupid. But it's one line in the text that catches his eye and nearly makes his heart stop.

 **Stromm - 9:47 PM**

...and there's been a lot of talk about this one kid in Musutafu called Spider-Man, he's usually out helping people on the streets and such. I was thinking someone like him could be equipped with…

He ignores the rest. He instead asks Stromm to text him a picture of this 'Spider-Man'. When Stromm asks why he's threatened with a cruel and swift employee discharge and sends the image almost immediately after.

There he is, standing by some old woman who's trying to hack away at him with some kind of bone coming out of her wrist. His son, clad in his ridiculous looking outfit that he recognizes so well. It's gone unchanged all this time, he's memorized each and every string of black webbing that went around his body. That doofy posture and willingness to help those who couldn't help themselves that disgusted him so. Norman can't believe his eyes. It's been so long since he saw him, and after all this time, all that waiting and all that mourning, there he was. Practically gift wrapped for him.

He spun around in his chair, a wide grin on his usually stoic face, running a hand through his dark red hair. He held a button on his desk, connecting to the intercom. "Liz dear, I'm going to need you to make some calls. I have something very important to take care of." He spoke in a soft, affable voice.

"Sure thing Mr. Osborn, what's the occasion?" He hears her peppy voice that absolutely made his stomach churn over the intercom.

Norman smiled as he rummaged through his desk drawer, finding a small silver suitcase. He clicked it open, and inside was a set of various, multicolored vials, cycling through red, green, and a shade of light, bubbly orange. He still hasn't stopped smiling.

"...Mr. Osborn?"

"Oh-so very sorry it's uh, it's nothing Liz I'm just...excited to see someone, is all."

He picked the green one from the case and popped the cap off of it. "I'm going to give them the best of greetings."

"That's great to hear! Who's the friend-"

He shut off the intercom and leaned back in his chair, twirling the vial in his hand slowly and carefully, as if he was stirring a pot.

" _It's going to be so great to see you again...Peter."_

He drank from the vial and suddenly the world around him warped and turned into fire.

 **End**

* * *

 **Extra: Break a Leg, Spidey!**

A young man dressed in skin tight red and blue spandex and a mask with large, bug-eyed lenses stood at the door of Avenger's Mansion. To most, this would be an unusual sight. Something worth taking a picture of and posting on their respective social media accounts, captioned "LOL XD Spidey's beggin again! What a loser!" on some sort of hypothetical superhero discussion subreddit that Peter hypothetically scrolled through almost every day to see if he could find someone actually saying something nice about him, though in this hypothetical situation he never did. Hypothetically.

But it had happened so many times at this point that no one would bat an eye. Spider-Man was punctual and consistent. Everyday for the past 2 weeks, 9AM, in front of Avenger's Mansion. Usually asking for training, a place on the team, a chance to 'make a difference.' He'd usually get a curt, but commanding answer at the door. Sometimes it would be Captain America, Iron Man or even Hawkeye that one time. But no matter who it was, it was always the same.

"No."

He was sure today would be different though. He had a whole speech planned out, one that would woo anyone who opened that door enough for them to offer him some training, a semblance of a chance at joining Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Admittedly it was a pretty embarrassing cycle, but Peter hoped he'd have a chance. One day.

He stood his short self outside the wooden door proudly. His chest puffed out, hands curled into fists at his side. There was no expression present in his mask, only the blank, wide-eyes stare of his white lenses shining in the sunlight.

"Yo, Spidey?" A man who was walking by spotted the boy, calling out to him quietly. Spider-Man turned around quickly, a bit too quickly. "I just wanted t'say kid, I seen you come here like, every day dude. Perseverance, I admire 'at. But you can't be out here doin' the most you feel? Looks kinda sus'. Anyways, good luck lil' dude." The New Yorker gave the boy a thumbs up as he walked away, to which the spandex-clad boy responded with with a shy, quiet 'thank you'.

" _Alright Spider-Man. Just like random citizen said, perseverance. I'm sure they'll admire that. Today's the day they accept me into their team and I-I get to be just like them. I..."_ His thoughts halted when he saw the doorknob turn. His posture straightened and he stared up at whoever it was that greeted him-

Only to see the monolithic green body of the Hulk himself, bare-chested and breathing heavily, like some kind of wild animal. Peter's breath hitched and somehow his back straightened even more than it already was. The large green gamma mutate made him look like a twig by comparison. Standing at just 5'3, Peter was only a little self-conscious about his height right about now.

"Uh...heya', Hulk, I uh just...uh. Just dropped in t'say-"

"No." And with that single word, the Hulk shut the door, making a booming SLAM noise that reverberated throughout the city block.

"Oh c'mon you didn't even know what I was gonna say!" Peter received no further response.

He heard giggles and the sound of pictures being snapped behind him. He turned, noticing a small gathering of onlookers.

He scowled under his mask, the spandex tightening over the lenses and making the big bug eyes thin. "Hey, HEY! Stop that, I, HEY!" He grumbled, shaking his fist at the small crowd, who soon dispersed when they noticed his fuming.

He sighed, putting both hands on his hips. "...Is it me? Maybe I'm just too good for them...Nah, s'not it…" He muttered to himself as he fired a webline to the nearest building, swinging off to go do whatever a Spider can.

Still not a member of the Avengers.

He wonders, for a moment, if Daredevil is interested in forming a team…

 **End**

* * *

 **Author's Note: In response to a reviewer last chapter, Mic overheard Peter doing the outer monologue thing, and heard him refer to himself as 'Pete'. I like Peter's inner/outer monologues. They shine the most in JMS's run imo, which is where the 'Hey God?' Scene was inspired from. Loved those scenes. However the tone will change once the more BNHA phase comes into play, now I'm more exploring Peter personally than those around him.**

 **So yeah, probably a huuuuge tone shift in the next 2 or 3 chapters that'll revert from time to time whenever needed to for the sake of tension build-up.**

 **I tried a Konosuba-esque montage. Dunno what to feel about it, it felt like the best thing to do where I was. Felt like I'd written myself into a precarious place.**

 **Also it's eventually gonna be Itsuka x Peter, for reasons. It'll actually become a 'thing' by around Hideout Raid or so. I like Kendou's design and attitude, plus her hair and eye color will help keep things interesting in Peter's mind. Must be a sucker for green eyes.**

 **Peter's proactiveness is gonna help push some of 1-B into the plot. Again, reasons. For the 1-B characters whose quirks haven't been shown or confirmed yet, if I get there before they are, I'm gonna get real weird with them. Probably.**

 **I'm harnessing (or trying to harness) my inner 2000 - 2010 Bendis when it comes to writing Peter, along with some of the better JMS works. I'm trying to make him a good person, who's been through lot, but has come out somewhat bitter for it. Not an unforgivable asshole but can occasionally just be a bit of a jerk. But for good reason.**

 **I've been reading over chapters and noticing a lot of spelling/grammar mistakes I failed to spot. Keep in mind I have no consistent writing schedule and usually do these at night or on my phone so forgive me. If anyone would like to offer any proofreading service or something, or teach me how Beta Reader functions that'd be swell.**

 **If you're wondering why I keep putting Daredevil into the extras, I just really like their dynamic from back in Ultimate and wish it were touched upon more. Darn it Ultimatum…**

 **I've also been thinking of an overarching theme song for this story. Thinkin' "That's Life" by Sinatra or "Evaporated" by Ben Folds. Either works.**

 **Overall, didn't enjoy writing this chapter as much as I know I will the chapters I have planned for later. Consider this grade A filler and minor character development.**

 **K thnx review por favor. Need more criticism. Also would like ideas that I can toss in here or take from because I have an overview but am missing some of the finer details. I'm still working on my writing and would appreciate any and all advice.**

 **byebye.**

 **Next Chapter: The Entrance Exam, Class Time, Makin' Friends, Wazzap Gurl u Cute**


	5. Chapter 5

**5 - Life Gives Too Many Lemons**

 **Note: Apologies for the wait. I'm currently juggling a few other ideas and trying to tune them up in my head whilst writing this. This, coupled with work, has made it hard to do as consistent updates n' stuff. Thanks for understanding.**

Peter would be lying if he said that some things he saw here didn't make him...uncomfortable. He was walking down the streets of Musutafu, early in the morning, wearing a navy blue t-shirt with a white long-sleeve shirt under it, a pair of jeans that had a small brown blotch caused by a stain after his feeble attempt at cooking, as well as a pair of worn out sneakers he'd found some few days after he arrived in this new world, with one hand clutching a sign-up and information sheet, and another lazily holding the same black duffel bag he'd been carrying around everywhere.

Sure, he's met people who look a bit more extraordinary than others. In this world and back home, but despite that he never seemed to get used to it.

" _I mean really, did half the people on the planet apply copious amounts of hair dye the day they were born?"_ He thought as he walked through the streets of Musutafu on his way to take the U.A. Entrance Exam, constantly noticing the strange pigmentation of others' hair. Of course, being from New York, things like dyed hair weren't unusual, but here it was just _everywhere_. Along with this came the strange physical mutations people had, and while Peter wasn't necessarily mean about it, but some things just looked...weird. The occasional gigantic ears or antennae sticking out of someone's forehead, or that one guy with chelicera jutting out of his cheeks that made Peter _really_ glad he didn't get those when he was bitten by that spider were the things that gave him the heebie jeebies.

" _Then again physical mutations like that could be useful, I mean, if I did grow an extra four arms I'd be three times as strong, plus it'd make a lot of stuff a heckuva' lot more convenient in the long ru-"_ "Ooft! Hey watch where you're-!" He snaps for a second in the middle of his thinking, feeling someone bump directly into him. He's speaking English when he tries to scold whoever it was, not realizing his mistake, but is cut off mid-sentence when he looks up and sees the person. They're a bit taller than him, though that's usually to be expected considering, and walking with what could only be described as an actual stick lodged up their ass and they're trying to get it out without making it known to everyone around them. He was blonde and fair-skinned, with uncontrollably spiked and messy hair that seemed to defy gravity and an all-black school uniform.

"Get out of the way, Half-Pint!" He shot back angrily, voice deep and gravelly though still clearly a young teen. He continued walking, sending a dirty look over his shoulder before turning back forward.

" _Well that was unpleasant."_ Peter frowned as he thought, clenching his hands lightly. What was that expression Aunt May uses for stuff like this? Whenever someone straight up ruins your day for no real reason.

 _"So who pooped in your cereal this time Pete?"_

Yeah, this guy just pooped in Peter's cereal. " _Jeeze, could_ be _he any more of an asshole…"_ he thought grumpily, grimacing under his breath as he continued walking. At least he didn't have to see that guy again.

* * *

Why did he think things?

Of course he'd see him walking right into the same school, both hands still in his pockets and looking like he was about ready to murder someone. Peter wouldn't be surprised if he did. The taller teen had a strange aura of rage and haughtiness, something that vaguely reminded him of Flash Thompson, only y'know, actually somewhat intimidating. It was a bit unsettling just to look at him from a distance. Of course, he looked relatively normal in comparison to others at the school entrance. There were some real oddballs walking around, a kid with weird purple balls sticking out of his head, a person with a bird head and...he didn't even wanna ask what that guy was supposed to be. Why was he yellow? And why did he have holes in his face? Was that even his face?

So many questions, so little time.

He shook the thoughts from his head, mumbling gibberish under his breath as he stepped up to the building's entrance. He'd seen it more than a few times already, having spent some days swinging around the city and catching it within his line of sight. While it wasn't really the Triskelion, it was still pretty large, and pretty imposing. Two large, glass buildings surrounded by a wall that was probably around 8 feet wide and made out of something significantly stronger than simple concrete. He could tell it was well funded and well protected.

Something else came to mind in that moment. It's a bit funny actually. He'd read that the school's motto was to 'Go Beyond, Plus Ultra!' Those words, Plus Ultra, the Latin term for 'Further Beyond', is the national motto of Spain, and a reversal of the phrase Non Plus Ultra, inscribed into the Pillars of Hercules at the Gibraltar Strait, as a warning that there was nothing beyond the strait itself. It was the edge of the world, the end of everything. Until Columbus discovered the New World, and, well…

Plus Ultra. There was a world beyond the strait. He could imagine the surprise on Hercules' face if he found out he was wrong all along. In a way, Peter could relate. Of course he's seen Norse Gods, mythical creatures and the worst accidents science has ever conceived, but the idea of a completely different world, and possibly billions upon trillions more like it was still _new_ to him. Something he'd have to get used to.

"Excuse me." A voice snapped him from his thoughts, a girl's voice this time, and as she passed by in the corner of his vision he only saw her as a large blob of pink that blended into the crowd from where he stood zoned out at the front door of the building. That was the second time he was shoved that day, but to be fair, he was standing in the middle of a somewhat crowded entryway like an idiot. Nice job, Parker.

With a sigh, he took his first tentative steps to the other side of the gate.

The first thing that comes to mind when entering is the word _loud_. The world seemed to change when he stepped through, becoming brighter, and again, louder. It wasn't just because of his greatly enhanced hearing, nor was the volume of speaking so far above average it would make his ears burst, it was just overwhelmingly full of color, personality. The students loitering around before the exam starts, some looking strange and alien, but still speaking so casually to the far more normal looking kids. There was yelling, whispering, laughter and such, and it was just so strange. It made him wonder if eventually the Mutants of his world would be accepted in such a way, despite their physical changes.

It was also weird to think that all of these people had powers like him. Sure, he'd been in the world for the better part of a month or so, but with the seemingly strict laws on the use of 'Quirks' he hadn't really gotten a chance to absorb that information. Now he was forced to see these people treat their amazing abilities naturally and in the open. It almost made him feel like he stood out the most for thinking this was all so strange, for seeming so careful and shy despite almost everyone's constant exuberance.

Plus, he's wearing pretty ratty mismatched clothes whilst everyone else seems to have school uniforms or clothes that were much more stylish than his. Again, nice job Parker.

"Man, this' weird." He said to himself out loud for no reason in particular other than to remind himself that this, was in fact, weird. The weirdest situation he's ever found himself in.

He really couldn't wait to get home already.

The students were greeted by three large doors leading into the school. From there they were ushered into an auditorium in groups, waves of kids splitting up and taking seats within the large, dark room. Peter, of course, tried to steer away from everyone else, taking refuge near the back corner of the room, duffel bag clutched tightly to his chest, staring at the stage intently. This reminded him of his earlier days in high school, back before he was given his powers. The not-so talkative, shy kid who always sat by himself. Some things never really did change.

More and more students poured in by the second, rows of seats steadily being filled. At some point the auditorium was full, every seat in the room taken. Some students sat in groups, talking among themselves much out they had been outside the building, but it became easier to notice those who kept to themselves more, much like himself. Sitting in the darker corners, not really talking to anyone, or keeping their eyes forward and head down just hoping no one would talk to them.

He watched as a teacher had finally gotten up on stage, one he recognized. It was Present Mic, the first English-speaking Hero he'd met when he appeared in the new world, one he was actually a bit fond of.

The man went on to go on a short, exhilarating speech that Peter couldn't really understand too well. Though he got the gist of it-beat up the 'villains', gather points, don't hurt any of the other students, win. Simple enough. This was all interrupted by some other kid, a tall one who wore glasses, and whose hair was deep shade of blue, who got up and started rather obnoxiously yelling about villain types or whatever. Then he started pointing at what the young vigilante could only describe as a freckled broccoli person and yelling about something, eliciting an apology from said broccoli boy. Then there was something about Super Mario Bros. and traps? Figuring out languages was hard.

"Now let's move on to the main event! As we say-" The hero splayed his hands out in front of him to further woo his crowd of students "Plus Ultra!"

The Parker boy couldn't help but snort. What a strange man Mic was.

When they were finally taken to the testing site-" _They built practically an entire city just for robot rampage? Seems like a huge waste of resources that could be invested in-oh whatever."-_ Peter was placed in a group with a few faces he recognized. Broccoli kid, the one with the glasses, who upon putting on shorts Peter found out had _engines built into his legs_. He couldn't help but wonder how that even worked biologically speaking.

Most people had changed into some nicely designed jumpsuit or exercise outfit, something Peter did not have in his limited wardrobe, so he was stuck wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing for the past few weeks.

"AND BEGIN!" A loud and energetic voice shouts over the intercom, and every student is caught off guard. The teacher continues, "What? In a real fight, there ain't no countdown! Consider the baton passed!" At that, every student was off at the races. Everyone except a certain Broccoli Kid, who Peter couldn't help but notice.

The native New Yorker paid him little mind, and leapt into the city as he usually would, web shooters firing off at the sides and ledges of buildings as he swung over the crowd of students. So far things seemed relatively...safe. But then a roughly Hulk-sized robot seemingly fell from the sky and tried to crush him.

"Sweet Mother Teresa this is supposed to be for training?!" He yelled in English as he just barely managed to swing out of the way and watched it land on the concrete. Behind him he could see dozens of students plowing through them like standard goons. Making them float, blasting lasers through them, tearing them limb from metal limb. It was incredibly impressive all things considered. "Why wasn't I this good when I started out?" He bounced off a wall and let himself fall to the street below, where he was met by yet another one of the one-pointer robots.

He promptly kicked it apart through it's chest. " _Still got it, Parker."_ He smirked somewhat cockily as metal bits flew all around him. It was surprisingly easier than he'd expected, not nearly as strong as other stuff he's had to punch through in the past. Perhaps he'd have a bit more fun with this than he'd thought.

The one-pointers were easy pickings for the students, even the two or three's weren't anything to be too worried about. Which is to be expected of course, this was only a simulation. A test of their skill, it wasn't like any of them could actually get hurt doing this, right? Well, this was what Peter thought before he saw the Zero Pointer. It was gigantic! Bigger than anything he's seen-where did it even come from?! It was smashing buildings, crushing trees and tearing its way around street corners, all the while looming intimidatingly over the prospective students, who were no longer busying themselves with fighting it, but instead with running to safety.

Peter was too far and too shocked at the time to even get a crack at it, no, Broccoli Kid leapt hundreds of feet into the air and punched it with power that'd make Thor raise an eyebrow. It didn't seem possible, given the kid's size, but he brought down the giant junk of metal with a single blow...and then he was falling. He fell and it didn't seem like he'd be stopping until he hit the ground.

That was where he came in. Swinging fast enough to clear Manhattan in ten minutes came in handy for things like this, and the brown haired foreigner managed to catch the shocked boy he dubbed Broccoli Kid. He winced as the boy screamed under his arm, his extremely sensitive hearing amplifying the sound further. He could see several pieces of floating debris below, with a relieved looking girl with brown hair and a round face sat within a hollowed out chunk of robot. He finally landed on the ground and lowered Broccoli Kid slowly and-

"Oh...Oh Jeeze uh-I-Is there a doctor here?!" He called out in Japanese, not paying any kind to the debris falling around him. Students gathered at the scene, giving him confused looks before they finally take a look at the boy on the ground and wince. Both of his legs and right arm were raw and broken, bent at disgusting and unnatural angles. There was a quiet, indistinguishable chatter among the students, but Peter was paying more attention to the poor boy who was using his single functioning arm in a feeble attempt to move, screaming something Peter didn't fully understand at the moment. Something about 'a single point', or whatever that meant. He had a look of pure anguish and desperation on his face, seemingly ignoring the world around him for a moment and trying to crawl his way to victory. Peter almost wanted to comfort the poor green kid.

"The test is over!" Everything seemed to calm down immediately as the voice of Present Mic spoke over the intercom, students across all sites stopping to catch their breath and await their evaluation.

The son of Richard Parker was far too busy staring at Broccoli Kid, who'd finally blacked out from his injuries. He wondered if he looked anything like that when he...died. Just a broken, battered mess on the ground, everyone staring at him wide-eyed and unsure of what to do.

Luckily, a little old nurse had moved past the students and kissed the injured child, repairing his damaged limbs (which, from where Peter was standing, looked gross) and offered to heal any other injured students. The whole time Peter was quiet, and left the building just as quietly. It was a quick, eventful experience he wasn't sure he was going to forget any time soon.

Later that night, in his borrowed apartment, he was wondering just how much that amounted to when it came to getting home.

* * *

The next week passed quietly. Peter thought about the entrance exam in his spare time, which, really, was all of his time. How many points did he get? Did he even get enough to be accepted into the school? Where in the world did the boy with thrusters sticking out of his legs get pants? He wasn't even sure when he'd get an acceptance letter, and what if he didn't even get accepted? Then what'd Mic do with him? Heck, why was he even offered to go to that school in the first place? A complete stranger, an underaged vigilante who quite obviously lied about his origins-it didn't make any sense to him. None of this did. It wouldn't ever make sense to him.

"God, I need a break. A nice, long, zero consequence break." He muttered to himself as he crouched at the edge of a small apartment complex. He was wearing his usual costume, which now had poorly sewn, discolored patches on it to cover up the many tears. He stared down at the street below, finding himself in a familiar place, alone and with no clue on how to progress.

"Okay-let's say I do get into this superhero school. Then what? Okay, go to classes, brush up on my Japanese, meet some other heroes-maybe tell someone the truth. Mic? Maybe. From there maybe try to get in contact with a bigwig scientist, someone like Reed Richards. Maybe this world has a Reed Richards. Maybe it has a Fantastic Four…Maybe not. How do I get back to America? Ask politely? No, no I don't that'll work. Unless...I explain it to a hero? Try to get me a free pass? Man I need access to internet to look these things up. What do I even do if I ever get home, 'Hey Aunt May sorry I disappeared for a few weeks, I died and was transported to another dimension, hey by the way I'm Spider-Man!'

What do I do if I don't get home at all? I can't just live here. I can't. There has to be a way…" He stopped to catch his breath. Sighing, he turned his sights to the sky above.

After taking a moment of silence, he crawled down the side of the building discretely, hoping no passing officers or heroes saw him, and crawled into his small one room apartment. He removed his mask from his place on the ceiling, tossing it haphazardly onto the unmade bed. His duffel bag sat in the corner of the mostly empty room next to a small TV set. Across it was a simple kitchen, complete with the usual amenities as well as a counter that made up the dividing wall from it and the rest of the apartment. The place was in disarray due to days of not cleaning up, something he was far too used to after months of late night superheroing. It became less a matter of laziness and more that he lacked the energy to organize his things, especially after a longer than usual adventure as Queens' resident masked vigilante.

Suddenly, a knock at the door stirred him from his thoughts.

He wondered how long they'd been knocking, considering he was up on the roof for about ten minutes, or perhaps it was just convenient timing. He didn't bother changing out of his poorly made costume, lightly jogging towards his doorstep.

"Who is it?" He asked, the language still not rolling off his tongue as well as he'd like it to.

He understood the response enough to know it was the mailman. After opening the door he was met with the kind smile of a normal looking fellow in uniform, who handed him a single, letter with a wax seal holding it closed. He gave the man a short 'thank you' and shut the door.

He stepped over to the disheveled bed and plopped down on it, the letter held tightly in his hand. He knew well what this was, he wasn't really expecting any other mail to come in. For whatever reason, his hands were shaking slightly, it may have been because something about this evoked a similar feeling to him being accepted into Midtown High, but he didn't have the patience to think about it too much.

" _Stay strong Pete. Not like it's gonna bite you."_

He opened the letter, and inside found a set of papers, one of which would determine whether or not he'd be going to U.A. come this school year as well as his scores during the test. As it turned out, he passed. It took him a moment to read through the paper, but when he finally found his scores he was shocked to see he'd managed to reach ninth place on the practical exams. But despite this, something still didn't feel right about all this. The fact that it all seemed far too simple, too easy to get through. He hadn't faced a single real challenge since he met Mic, nor had he been given as many questions as he expected, and planned to dodge through vague but satisfying answers. Nope, he was just given directions and sent on his way. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Again, he was left without answers and with nowhere to look to for any real guidance.

At this point he could quite accurately compare his life to the sound of a sad trombone noise. Nothing but constant moping. Reaching behind him, he retrieved the mask he haphazardly tossed onto the bed and stretched it out, holding it over his lap and staring into the white, emotionless lenses. It was usually something done to reassure himself, to provide a reminder that he was Spider-Man. A hero who's faced down death more times than he could count, but now?

Now it just made him angry. To stare right into the eyes of his failure, the reason he was in this whole mess.

He laid back, eyes shut tight and curled in on himself, laying atop the tangled mess of sheets and clothes that was his bed. It was a bit early to sleep, but he just needed it right now.

He needed it a lot.

* * *

 _Some time later..._

The Vigilante from Queen's' eyes shot open faster than you could say wheat cakes, the loud, non-stop ringing kicking him out of his sleep and back into the cruel cruel world of consciousness. His head snapped to the small coffee table at the side of his bed, staring at the faulty alarm clock like he would into the eyes of the Green Goblin, and read.

10:30 AM

He was late for his first day of class.

"Well, crap."

 **End**

* * *

 **Extra: Advice, From Me to You**

"Hey you...talk to people right, when you're not Daredevil-ing?" Two men in red tights were stood on a rooftop in the middle of the night. There have been weirder things.

One of them stood at six feet tall, with small horns protruding from his blood red mask which matched the rest of his costume. His waist was covered with a thin belt that held a set of batons, and there was a strange symbol that seemed to be two D's overlapping one another. He was Daredevil, hero of Hell's Kitchen and the Man Without Fear.

The other was, well, Spider-Man.

"What do you mean?" The older man asked sternly as he kept his eyes locked on the parking lot they were surveying. They'd heard a few the Kingpin's men were going turncoat to start working with someone by the name of Hammerhead, an up and coming criminal whose influence challenged the likes of Fisk himself. This is where they'd be meeting to confirm their allegiance to the new degenerate in town. If they struck now they'd probably be able to get information for both sides of this little war between crime lords.

Daredevil didn't really plan for the younger hero to be there. It just so happened that Spider-Man was swinging by Hell's Kitchen with absolutely no intention of talking to Daredevil whatsoever. Yep.

But after a short chat, he had invited the teen to this 'mission'. He found the kid annoying as all Hell, but he couldn't deny that he was still capable. To an extent.

"Well like, you have friends who you talk to, text or I dunno-go out for lunch with. Or-Or maybe a girl you like, or are dating or-"

"What is it that you want?"

"Advice. Mostly. I know...I get that you find me annoying, trust me you're not the only one, but I just need someone to talk to about y'know, _this_. No one else knows and it's just a bit-"

"Overwhelming. Of course it'd be. What're you? Thirteen?"

"Fifteen."

"Right…" The blind lawyer sighed, his ears perking up slightly as he heard a vehicle approaching roughly 6 blocks away, with minor chatter that included key words like "Kingpin", "Hammerhead", and "Lousy Fat Motherfu-". That was all he needed to know.

"First group'll be here in six minutes tops. Be ready." He unhooked his batons from his belt, holding them both in his hands as he peeked his head over the edge of the alleyway.

"Listen it's just...there's this girl."

The older vigilante felt a strong headache coming on.

"I've known her for a long time, and I just...I really like her y'know? And I don't know how to really talk to her about this...this. Y'know, being superheroes and stuff. I don't wanna have to lie to her if-"

"Kid?" He stopped the lad's sputtering, causing him to stiffen up and stand straight. Daredevil could hear his heartbeat speeding up as he spoke, and knew that he'd only escalate the amount of terrible situations he'd be faced with should he continue, and worry himself into a heart attack.

Matt Murdock read people very well.

"You see what we're doing now? How insane it is? How irresponsible? Do you really want someone you care about, someone you know can't defend themselves as well as you'd like them to, to be involved? What if someone like Kingpin finds out who you are? Sees your face?" He turned towards the boy, who hadn't moved an inch since he last spoke. He took a few commanding steps toward him and placed a finger on his chest. "That's on you. Whatever happens to them because of your mistake is your responsibility. So if you ask me, you're better off leaving this girl alone."

The boy looked downtrodden, as much as he could wearing a mask that covered his face, and the blind man could hear the way his arms fell at his sides and his shoulders slackened.

"But if you're careful...very careful, then you have a chance at being happy yourself. But sometimes, you can't do what's best for you, because sometimes it isn't what's best for them, not in our line of work. Understood?"

"Yeah...Yeah I understand. Thanks...so, hey, have any sage wisdom on how to ask someone ou-"

"Three minutes. Twelve men. Get ready for a fight."

"Oh-Oh! Right!"

 **End**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Extra was short. Didn't wanna dwell on it too much.**

 **Anyways, yeah. Chapter. Nice. Think I'm finally getting a better flow of things this time around. Maybe? Please tell me what I could do to progress further. I did feel the pacing was a bit off here, but I didn't want to dwell on one thing for too long or too little, if that makes sense.**

 **I think maybe the exam was a bit short, but I have my reasons. I don't want Peter to do the cliché walking up to/getting walked up to by main characters in such a "hey I'm important later" way too often. I went over canon character interactions briefly because from the perspective of this story, and therefore Peter, they're just in the background and serve little significance in of themselves. I'm writing with the assumption that you guys have watched the series and know these characters, so I'm not going to go over a description of them unless I feel it's necessary in the context of the situation. He'll meet them eventually, it's not like I'm going to forever isolate him from everyone else, but it'll happen gradually and in a way that makes sense for Peter's situation and mental state. He's not gonna go around trying to make friends, or act approachable enough to give anyone the chance just yet.**

 **The reason I did that with Noya, the old shop owner, was because I wanted to try my hand at something Horikoshi does superbly: establishing that other people exist in the world aside from the main cast and they don't always have to be devices to move the plot forward. Tell me if you guys think I did it well or not, cause I have a few ideas for how to do it again for world-building purposes.**

 **Honestly still debating the romance. Should it happen at all, if so, with who? When? I don't really know. If so, I plan to make it a slow, slow burn. Like sinking into lava slow. If anything Peter is going to try to avoid it like the plague, and succeed for awhile, he's even going to avoid making friends with anyone in the new world he's in for a hot minute. However, if he is to do so, my current option is likely Jirou now that I've thought about it. But not for a long, long, long time.**

 **Not sure yet, wanna know what you guys think.**

 **Well uh, anyways, yeah. Feedback's always welcome, as it helps me be better-er! Thanks, n' have a good whatever it is you're doin!**

 **kbye**


	6. Chapter 6

**6 - Electric Grapes Make My Spider-Sense Tingle!**

 **Note: Honestly ashamed at how long this took. Again, apologies for the wait. I'm just really bad, in general. I tend to go back and edit chapters before they're even completed, so I spend way too damn long on them. Bad habit I have to fix. That, alongside school and exams has really held me back. Don't worry, I plan to finish this off, even if it kills me.**

 **Maybe that's going a bit far, but for right now I just wanna try to get a better handle on my writing and see how I can improve.**

 **New Format for varying kinds of text (Credits go to AvatarConner for having used this same one in one of their stories. Go check out their Spider-Man stuff, it's pretty fantastic) :**

 **LOUD SOUND EFFECTS! IT'S LIKE A COMIC BOOK! CLEVER, RIGHT!?**

"Dialogue"

' _Thoughts'_

.:Radio/Electronics:.

 **Disclaimer: I own socks. I don't, however, own My Hero Academia or Marvel Comics, or any related characters. If I did they'd be exponentially worse. But hey, socks right?**

* * *

Ever since he 'became' Spider-Man, every morning was less relaxing than the last. He assumed it was because he was staying out later during the nights, feeling inhuman bursts of adrenaline every few hours and suffering more than a few possibly traumatic brain injuries. Ever since he was mysteriously transported into what he only referred to as 'this world', waking up felt almost easier, like there was a lot less weight keeping him pinned to his bed. He rarely ever stayed up later than he reasonably should, and even if he did he was able to sleep in much longer due to the lack of actual responsibilities. It was a strange benefit of living here, one he would admittedly miss when he finally left. A benefit he was experiencing in all its glory right this moment, deciding it was finally time to stand and slowly but surely sliding off the bed. Peter started the morning (afternoon) with a breakfast of nearly toasted bread and a side of what he hoped were adequate sunny-side up eggs. May would be terribly disappointed in his complete lack of cooking skills. By this time in the day, he would probably be in school, sitting in fourth period wondering what fearsome foes he'd face during patrol time while Mr. Warren talked about auxotrophs or whatever.

Instead, he found himself leaping across the rooftops of Musutafu, wearing his mask but not the rest of his costume, instead it was kept under the uniform provided kindly to him by the school. He knows it probably isn't necessary, but it had become habitual at that point; going out without his costume under his clothes almost felt like going out naked. He was purposefully taking his time, mostly because he felt somewhat anxious about the whole ordeal. Meeting new people, new teachers, making new memorizes that he doubts he'll forget…it was all so surreal to go through. He tried not to think about it too hard, but as he soared across city blocks it was the only thing occupying his mind.

"God, I'm such a spaz." He muttered to himself as he acrobatically pushed off a water tower with one arm, his superhuman strength propelling him forward into the air. "I mean really, why am I stressing so much about this? It's not like I plan to get to know any of these people anyways."

Ledge, balcony, cell tower, ledge. He jumped across the city with the agility and grace of a jungle cat. Occasionally he'd catch someone down below getting a glimpse of him, not like he was that difficult to notice or was trying to conceal himself. Usually he'd worry about some hero stopping him for playing hooky or something similar, but Peter thinks that he'd prefer that right about now rather than having to go to a school he knows so little about other than the fact that they can afford to build gigantic model cities in empty landscapes. Midtown High never had that kind of money, but then again they didn't house nearly as many super powered teenagers.

The school was finally within sight, the distant buildings glowing with the rays of the sun seen on the horizon surrounded by trees, and if he kept pace he'd be there within a minute or so. As he got closer, however, a certain familiar tightness in his chest was beginning to take form, the same kind of feeling he got when he stared up at the likes of the Rhino. Something large and intimidating, a challenge to be overcome looming over him with a mountainous form. Like always, he just steeled himself and kept his head high, ready for whatever was to come, no matter how dangerous.

Or frustrating.

He dropped down a good distance away from the school while keeping himself as out of sight as much he could, quickly pulling off his mask and shoving it in his pocket. His hair had gotten much longer in the several weeks he'd be in the alternate reality Japan, and what was once a modest curtained haircut was now a mess of light and dark brown with little care or direction, made especially shaggy by the fact that he spent most days wearing the mask. The picture perfect definition of a bed head, barely groomed and puffy. It would be a brisk walk to get to the school, taking him a few minutes until he would arrive at his temporary place of learning.

Last he read the acceptance letter, thankfully with an English copy to ease any trouble he had reading it, that he would be attending Class 1-A, however because they were over capacity by just one, being himself, he would either be exempt from participating in some activities depending on the criteria, or have to do others at the teacher's request to earn the grade, and due to his lack of communication he would be given separate one-on-one sessions to better learn Japanese during his the regular english period. It seemed reasonable for the time being, and getting some one-on-one time with a hero could work in his favor if it's the right hero for the job.

But then again, that begged the question that kept creeping its way back into his head: what if they _didn't_? He didn't really have a plan for if the worst happened, he just hoped that everything would turn out alright. He's already overstayed his time there and wanted to get back home quickly, but he had to measure himself. This would take time, perhaps even, and Heaven forbid he has to stay this long, years to get through. He had a literal world of possibilities open to him. Billions of ways this could go down. He had no direction, no guiding hand to take him along or goals he wanted to reach. He was just there, _living_ , and that's how it would be. It was terrifying, weighing down on him like a thousand pounds of concrete, scarier than any villain he's faced, any criminal he's had to clobber.

Everything was so much simpler just a few months ago.

Before he knew it, he was at the front doors of the school, the lobby now empty and filled with deafening silence. A stark contrast to how it was the first time he'd seen it, with students walking about with nervous excitement. It felt strange, different, and he imagined it was a bit more comparable to what it was like on the day of the entrance exam practical that morning, but he almost preferred it being a lot emptier.

He struggled to read all of the direction signs on his way to the class, but he just barely managed to make his way there (sadly having walked into another class during his short journey by accident, with a rather muscular teacher that had white hair and one heck of an underbite.) Once he finally arrived at his class it was completely empty.

So, so empty.

So, he backtracked, shyly walking back into the previous teacher's class, who he now knew as Kan-Sensei or as he was apparently better known as 'Vlad King' and asked him where his class could be, to which he responds with a somewhat knowing sigh and short answer. Apparently, they're at the practice field. Why they were, Peter didn't ask because A) he felt bad for interrupting the class during orientation of all things and B) the other students were staring at him funny. Was it cause he was foreign? Was it because of his hair? He didn't know, he just wanted out, so he made his way to the practice field. He had changed into the uniform provided to him which he assumed was for physical activity just in case he needed to while he was on his way (which sadly added five minutes to his trip given that he had to find the bathroom.)

He didn't seem to get the attention of the students from his own class, all gathered together and staring intently at who he believed he recognized as Broccoli Kid, who was standing some dozen feet away holding a baseball in his hand, staring at it with a familiar nervousness. He did get the attention of the teacher, who he definitely recognized as the guy who had nearly suffocated him in scarf just a few days ago, and gave him a look. The kind of look he'd get from Aunt May whenever he was in trouble, but she didn't want to bring it up immediately, that it was a matter for later. He really, really hated that look.

' _Maybe I should say something to get their attention? I guess a simple 'Hi' could work, or maybe just a 'Yo' if I wanna seem coo-"_

 **KTHOOM!**

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by what he suspected were the winds of a flash-hurricane of some kind. He had to close his eyes because of the sheer pressure and force of the wind blowing against him. The other students seemed to have to brace themselves every so slightly, being a good It took a moment for everything to process, for him to realize and remember the kind of power Broccoli Kid seemed to pack. The kind he saw at the entrance exam that shattered the boy's bones and left him a crumpled heap on the ground, only this time he wasn't completely broken. No, just his finger, which was red and raw and looked like it was causing him excruciating pain. Peter just stood there, still a good few feet behind the rest of the class, frozen in shock and awe. It was like seeing Thor in person again, only somehow more amazing because it was coming from someone who seemed so small and weak compared to everyone else.

"S-Sensei…" Broccoli's voice broke him out of his stupor. He hadn't heard the kid's voice before, but it sounded so soft and yet so strained. He held up his wounded hand, giving the teacher a fierce stare. "I...I can still move!" Whatever it was he did, it seemed to please the teacher to the point of widening his eyes and smiling in a way that was a lot creepier than Peter thinks he intended to be.

That was intense.

"What is this Deku?!" Oh, he knew that voice. He only met the guy once, but somehow it irked him immensely. Before you could say 'Wallopin' Websnappers', the familiar Douchebag ran from the group of students, sparks popping in his hands. He looked like he was about to kill the poor freckled lad, but was quickly stopped by the teacher's scarf. Then the teacher went on about steel and dry eye, he couldn't really decipher that part.

"...and get ready for the next trials." He turned away from the rest of the class, now starring Peter right in the eyes. Ah, right, this part. "And you." Aizawa pointed directly at Peter, turning the rest of the classes attention towards him as well. Some gave him incredulous looks, others more blank and serious, and Douchebag just looked as angry as he apparently always is. "You and I will have to talk later. For right now, I'll instruct you on the previous trials and you'll be performing them while the rest of the class goes through the next few. Once everyone is dismissed, you'll stay with me to catch up and we'll have a little talk."

Peter didn't know him very well, but given the way he seemed to carry himself he imagined that was quite the mouthful for him.

The trials were fairly simple. A couple of grip tests here, sprint speed tests there, nothing too abnormal, at least for a school that taught people with superpowers. He got to throw a ball about 120 meters. Overall, nothing too excruciating, but having the teacher watch him, as well as the students eyeing him from afar while going through their own trials was a bit awkward. Eventually, the class' trials were over and they were dismissed, all except Peter. He was still going over another few rounds of trials in complete silence. Sweat was starting to form on Peter's forehead, both from the heat of the day, all his physical activity, and the piercing stare of the hobo-looking hero peering deep into the confines of his soul.

"I told the other students initially that they'd be expelled if they didn't perform well during the trials." He cut off the mutual silence, causing Peter to stop mid-run and give him a strange look. "I did it to provoke them into putting maximum effort into it, but I figure that it wouldn't have changed much for you if I told you or not, would it?"

"I uh.." Peter thought for a moment, wiping the sweat off his brow. "I...guess not." He let out weakly in his still imperfect Japanese.

"Are you at all disappointed at not getting to meet any of the other students personally?"

"I...no."

"Did you even prepare an alarm to get up early this morning so you wouldn't be late?"

"No."

"Did you come with the intention of apologizing or wanting to make a good impression?"

"No." He could barely make out what Aizawa was saying, but as far as he could tell 'No' was the most honest answer.

"Why is it that you want to be a hero anyways?"

"I…" He stopped, looking dumbly at the older man. He understood the question this time. Why did he want to be a hero again?

"I don't really know. It just...just kind of came to me." Peter responded coolly. He didn't understand why these questions were being asked, especially when he wasn't even done with his inane workouts.

"So what you're telling me is…" Aizawa took a step forward, "you're unenthusiastic, uninterested, and unprepared. You don't even know why you want to be here, and from what you've shown today you don't even seem like you want to be. So, I'll ask you straight...why are you even here?"

He said it all in a way that was so condescending, so agitating to Peter that he almost wanted to hit him. Just get him to stop talking. He'd never been chewed out by a teacher in such a way, was this how it always felt? It made him go red in the face but it was like he was completely frozen, unable to respond properly again. Finally, after a few moments of silence he said:

"I don't know."

Aizawa didn't entirely expect that answer if he was being honest. He expected something more akin to how Midoriya reacted to his pushing, something fierce and courageous. It was surprising and almost disappointing, and he didn't exactly know what to do.

"Back to it, kid." The teacher said, keeping his cold and stern tone. With that, Peter turned back around and continued his jog.

* * *

"Well that was terrible." Peter muttered to himself as he walked down the streets of Musutafu once more. He wasn't in the greatest state of mind at the moment. Something about his interaction with Aizawa just put him...down. He didn't even feel like rushing 'home' or swinging. He didn't have the strength to.

"He's just...God he's so-EUGH!" He rubbed down his face, shaking his head as he did so. This earned him strange looks from random passersby around him, but he didn't really care to notice very much, far too focused on his own conniptions. He didn't need that kind of pressure, that kind of tension right now. He wanted to scream at him, tell him exactly what he felt and what his problems were, but if he did something like that he'd probably be thrown in the psych ward.

"Aizawa-Sensei give you a hard time?" He hears a the voice of a young man behind him. He looks over his shoulder and sees a pair of vaguely familiar teens wearing the same uniform as him. He thinks they're his classmates, but he isn't too sure.

"I uh...yes." He chokes out the words that he isn't entirely sure are correct, but given the response he got he assumes they were. He stopped, shifting his body sideways so as to not be in the way of any civilians walking by him. The two other students stopped around the same time, making the confrontation seem somewhat awkward not considering the two kind looking smiles they had.

One of them had strangely sharp, yellow eyes and a head of messy blonde hair, somewhat similar to Peter's except much sharper, with a black lightning bolt shaped tuft. The other was much, much shorter than Denki, with a decent bit of his height made up for by the large amount of 'hair' he had, which looked especially strange to Peter as it seemed to be made of several purple and almost grape-like balls.

"'Sup? Name's Kaminari, this here's Mineta. We saw you were walkin' by yourself, looked pretty down, I'm guessing he really chewed you out huh?"

The blonde one seemed laid back, cool, a personality that went fairly well with his appearance. He didn't seem like the abrasive type, so that helped calm Peter down just a bit. Peter didn't really know if he wanted to have this conversation at all, he just wasn't in a good mood after that whole situation with Aizawa. He didn't want to be rude, they were just being nice.

"Ye...Yes? Uh—Parker. Peter Parker." Once more he found himself unable to respond properly, both because of the language barrier and because of his social ineptitude.

"You're not really from around here are you?" Kaminari said with a knowing smirk on his face.

"You from Europe? America? How about those hot foreign babes am I ri-!" The short one stopped short of his fantasies when Kaminari whacked him lightly on the back of the head, bringing him back to reality.

"C'mon Mineta, let's not freak him out with that kinda stuff. Can't you see he's nervous? Say, what's say we grab some lunch together...Peter, right?" He put out his hand and offered a shake.

' _Huh that's...really thoughtful of him. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to get to know some of-'_ Peter's thoughts were cut off when he heard Kaminari start to speak again, and getting a better look on his face saw that his once kind looking smile turned into a somewhat lecherous smirk.

"And what's say we talk about all those foreign chicks while we're at it?"

He was pretty sure the purple one was salivating.

* * *

Admittedly, Peter was never that much of an epicurean. He liked eating food like anyone else, but he never found himself getting too picky about what he wanted to eat, so when Kaminari asks him what he'd be interested in grabbing food nearby, his only response is 'Yes.' He could also tell that neither of his new acquaintances were that well acquainted with the area, so they didn't really know what to get for food either, and despite having passed by here dozens of times, Peter usually ate whatever food he had at home that he could concoct from various grocery store ingredients.

They settle on a small western-inspired restaurant some few blocks away, talking amongst themselves along the way. It was mostly Kaminari and Mineta talking while turning to Peter and trying to give him questions that were easier to answer. This continued even when they had sat down at their booth and began ordering.

"So what's your quirk?"

"Strong? Strengf? St-Str-"

"Strength enhancement?"

"Yes." He leaves it at that.

"So you've been liking it here? Where are you from?"

"Yeah, good. New York."

"The city?! Dude you gotta tell us about that, well, once you can! That's crazy."

"Yeah, that place is like the center of all things hero...also a lot of the female heroes look ho-"

' _Is it?'_ Peter thought, absently taking a sip from the surprisingly delicious drink he ordered while Kaminari gave Mineta a look of reprimanding. He never really thought about what New York must have been like in this world, or if he'd even want to visit it. In fact, the idea that New York was out there somewhere never even came to mind. Could it somehow be parallel to his own? Was there another Reed Richards there, or perhaps another him, one that lived a completely different life? That was a strange thought, and he didn't really want to meet himself anytime soon. Mostly because he didn't want to tear a hole in reality or something along those lines, or was that time travel?

"So, where've you been living?"

"Uh...here. Close."

"Close by? Like, did your parents come with you?"

"No."

"So you're all by yourself? Must've been one heck of an offer if you left home just to go to UA…"

It was weirdly nice getting to talk to them. Kaminari would ask him a few easy questions and go back to talking with Mineta, and he'd be sure to slow down his speech so as to give Peter more time to learn and understand. Mineta seemed a bit...off. Occasionally Peter would catch him saying something particularly strange or lecherous, anything that Peter could understand at least, only to be subtlety shut down by Kaminari, not in a way that seemed outraged, but more likely because he didn't want to act so strange in front of a new friend. The two seemed to take to each other quite naturally, like two people who'd become fast friends, or had known each other for a long time. He was a bit jealous of that.

After awhile, Peter parted ways with the two, giving them the most sincere 'sayonara' he could. He had to admit, it was getting a bit awkward and he felt like the third wheel, but he was a bit more enthusiastic about going to school the next day, now that he knew people that he could consider acquaintances.

Relatively speaking, it was a nice time. For just a few moments he managed to put aside all the problems floating around his head and have a little bit of fun.

Would it last?

* * *

Peter goes home later that night. He opts not to go out patrolling for once, as for some reason he was feeling a lot more exhausted than usual. He stares into his bathroom mirror and wonders if he's changed at all since his arrival. Is he any taller? Does he look any older? He had to admit, he doesn't remember exactly what he looked like before he died. His right hand traces a scar on his left shoulder, caused by one of Octavius' monstrous arms, and he wonders if it'll ever fade. He doesn't think he wants it to, not anymore. It reminds him of home.

* * *

He made it past the school entrance as quickly as his legs could take him without going into a full on sprint, ignoring any student trying get him to join any clubs and making his way to homeroom. The school day started as soon as the bell rung.

Seat 21. All the way in the back, awkwardly alone next to nothing but empty space, in front of it a seat being filled by a floating set of girls' clothes. Weird. Thankfully, no one seemed to pay him too much mind, with the exception of a greeting from Kaminari, so he was braced for a relatively mundane school day. And mundane it was. Classes went somewhat slow, likely because he was struggling to understand a lot of what the teacher was saying, and having to sit out during English class to go study Japanese with a man made of cement was more than a bit awkward for him. Alas, he sat through it all with forced attempts at interaction and praying no one thought about approaching him again. Lunch was surprisingly great, much better than any of the 'food' they served the students at Midtown, and it was probably the best meal he'd had in his entire time since he'd arrived.

Then came the afternoon, when he'd have his 'Foundational Hero Studies' class. He didn't know what that meant, but it sounded like nothing too special. Couldn't be too exciting, right?

"I AM…"

Ah, darn.

"Walking through the door like a normal person!"

The class burst into an uproar of excited whispers as the titanically sized, caped hero that Peter recognized as a man with his face on a lot of billboards walked up to the podium.

"Ohmygosh! It's All Might! He's really going to be teaching us!"

"He's actually wearing his Silver Age outfit! That's so cool!"

' _Well this guys obviously a big deal.'_ Peter monologued, keeping silent and listening attentively as the hero and part-time teacher began his speech.

"Welcome students to Foundational Heroics! Through this class, you'll all be put through the training that molds you into true heroes!" The Symbol of Peace said with his voice booming through the room and reverberating off the walls. His movements were erratic and showy, as if he was trying to seem like as much of a cliché as he could. It reminded Peter of old tapes from World War Two about Captain America, the way he exuded such an aura of hope and fearlessness. The picture perfect representation of what a superhero should strive to be. All Might was a bit...extra, in comparison, being much louder and much more exaggeratedly manly.

Peter was also convinced he could impale a man with those hair spikes.

"No time to dilly dally! Today we'll be evaluating you all in—!" He reels back his arm and flexes his muscles, shaking slightly as he prepares to reveal the day's plan. "BATTLE TRAINING!" He finally said, revealing a board with the kanji for 'BATTLE' written on it. Reactions among the room varied, from excited, to nervous, to whatever intense emotions Douchebag was feeling as he smiled so widely he almost resembled the Cheshire Cat. There's something almost terrifying about the way he kept smiling, but at the same time endearing. "You'll also be receiving THESE!" With those words, cabinets shot from the wall, five rows, four of which were numbered one to twenty, with the final row being a single cabinet closer to the ground, labeled twenty-one. The class exploded in cheer once more, students standing from their seats and eager to retrieve their new personas. Peter was the last to stand, taking slower and noticeably less excited steps towards the cabinet.

"Once you're all done getting changed we'll gather at Ground Beta!"

"Yes sir!"

He assumes that they must have guesstimated his measurements and fitted him with his own aesthetic choices in mind. Once he and the rest of the boys gotten to the locker room he decided to give it a shot and try it on. It wasn't the same skin right suit he was accustomed to, but instead it was closer to something like armor. Rather than a mask made of fabric, he was given what seemed more like a motorcycle helmet with 2 white lenses and black rims, and a web pattern that formed around the center of the face and trailed to the back. There were another set of 'eyes' above the primary pair, as well as one on the back of the head, both of which were much smaller. The rest made up of some black bodysuit made out of a material similar to carbon fiber, only much easier to stretch. The more decorative pieces that were closer in design to his red and blue outfit seemed to attach to whatever end they were meant for. Each piece, including the helmet was made from a material that felt strangely plastic, but more dense. There were two wide pieces that went around his wrists and up to his elbow, with a hole in them that he assumed were for his webs, and two similar boots that seemed to focus more on articulation when it came to design, being somewhat less bulky.

In the center, a thick vest that almost felt like a football jersey with shoulder pads and, painted to look almost exactly like the spandex variant, only the pattern of webbing was much cleaner and streamlined, painted onto the suit rather than sewn, with the spider in the center that became his trademark symbol was somewhat larger, more noticeable and exaggerated.

All in all, he felt like a Power Ranger.

He still wore the old duds underneath it, however, mostly for the sake of comfort. But he had to admit, he quite liked the outfit the school provided for him. It was comfortable and padded with something that didn't hug his body too much but still left enough space to maneuver around and stretch.

The walk into the grounds was a short one, all the students gathering together and walking through a dimly lit tunnel, with an almost heavenly beam of light shining in from the other side. They came out slowly, walking in an almost dramatic sense and finding their teacher waiting outside, dressed in costume and stood akimbo. One thing was for certain, with everyone suited up and ready for battle, it left a certain feeling in the air that Peter had only ever felt a few times, but it was widespread, felt by everyone that was there.

He felt like a badass.

"They say the clothes make the man, kids." All Might spoke, and Peter felt a light nudge on his elbow. He turned to see Kaminari, dressed in his own hero attire, giving him a friendly look that said 'Good luck.' "So be fully aware, from now on…"

"You!"

"Are!"

"Heroes!"

He spoke with such hope and belief in them, just a bunch of kids with dreams, that Peter couldn't help but crack a small grin under his mask. "This is great everyone, you all look so cool!" The teacher continued, boosting trying to boost the students' confidence should it falter.

"Now let's begin, zygotes."

* * *

The scenario was simple, two students would act as heroes and another two would act as villains. The villains were defending a nuclear warhead inside of a building while the heroes were trying to disable it, which would be done by making contact with said warhead. The heroes lose if they don't disable it within the allotted time or by knockout, the latter also going for the villains. Simple, right?

Right.

But due to the uneven number of students, there would have to be a Three Vs. Two battle, and Peter was, of course, the odd one out. So he was placed in Team I, with the floating pair of gloves and empty boots and a kid who looked straight out of karate class.

Right.

"So, uh...what's your name?" The blonde boy in the go asked Peter, who was standing idly in the observation room, paying very close attention to a loose nail sticking out of the metal ceiling.

"Oh, Parker. Peter Parker" Peter responded in as casual a way as he could.

"Right. Well I'm Ojiro Mashirao…" He pauses unintentionally, not entirely sure how to continue speaking to someone so distant. The moment of silence between them is awkward enough to make Hagakure, as they both learned the invisible girl's name was, take a few steps away from them both, "good luck, Parker. I...hope we make a good team." He offers him a smile, and steps away.

Right.

" _Man, now I know why I only ever had two friends. Really just gonna say nothing? Let that hang?"_ Peter rubbed down the face of his mask, looking away from the rest of the class and trying to make himself invisible. If only he were Hagakure.

* * *

First up was Team D versus Team A. Suffice to say, it was messy.

Turns out, Broccoli Kid (Midoriya) and Douchebag (Bakugo) have quite the history. Enough for both of them to have a rather emotional talk while trying to pummel one another. It was quite the spectacle, Peter had to admit. At one point it almost seemed like Bakugo was deliberately trying to murder his adversary, screaming and throwing his power around like a lunatic. Peter couldn't even place what his power was supposed to be, but given his less than subtle display and costume, he assumed it had something to do with exploding. Even if he was a bit sloppy in his presentation, he was a more than competent fighter. He'd heard whispers among the class as they watched him use every advantage he could, and utilize his powers rather creatively to boot. His combat prowess was something to marvel at, and it almost intimidated Peter.

Almost.

In the end, the girl in pink (Urarakaka? Urakaka? Ukarara?) managed to use Midoriya's destructive power to her advantage, and used her powers to manipulate the debris and give her an opening around Glasses Kid (Iida). An impressive show of teamwork and quick thinking, unfortunately at the cost of Broc— _Midoriya_ 's arm. And other body parts that he's more than certain suffered possibly long lasting damage, because that was _rough_. Luckily, he was rushed to safety and All Might himself went into the field and ushered all the students away, including the seemingly comatose Bakugo, who it seemed couldn't accept defeat.

"Well, I'd say that the M.V.P. of this battle was none other than...Iida!" With that declaration from All Might, the class erupted into numerous questions, wondering why he, the most passive participant during the simulation, was considered the most valuable. A student, taller than most, stepped up to answer. Getting a good look at them, Peter thought…

"It was because Iida was the most able to adapt to the scenario and plan accordingly…"

Peter thought…

"Bakugo's actions were being motivated by a personal grudge, which caused him to use overly destructive attacks indoors, an incredibly foolish tactic…"

Peter thought that—

"Midoriya also suffered from the same performance issues…"

Peter.

"Uraraka had lost focus on the objective and her tactic was too sloppy, haphazard. Which could have cost her the match."

Peter didn't think anything. He cleared his mind, like an incredibly zen, Buddhist monk. Clear of all temptations, feelings, and desires. He was a man of honor, a man of respect, and he would. Not. Stare.

Never.

"...only won due to the exploitable constraints because this is, of course, only an exercise."

Silence came down upon all the students, and he's sure All Might was shaking slightly, as if intimidated by the girl's analysis. He gave her a thumbs up. "Well I would say...yes! You're correct!"

"We've got to start from the very bottom and work out way up, and if we don't push each other forward, we'll never be top heroes." She concluded, putting her hands on her hips and giving off a stern, yet confident stare.

"We'll be moving the battle to a new location! Next up: Team B versus Team I. Team B will act as the heroes and Team I will act as the villains!"

"Alright! I'm goin' all out, the gloves are off—and the boots too!" Hagakure exclaimed with a fiery passion, throwing off her gloves and boots. It was then that Peter realizes that she was entirely naked. Right.

"I guess Hagakure makes sense for a name, invisible girl and all, but...this'—uhm, a bit uncomfortable, don't you think?" Ojiro said, eyeing the now naked girl uneasily. Peter silently agrees, but couldn't really tell how Hagakure responded. Invisible, and all that.

Soon enough, they were stood within the building, by their soon to be detonated nuclear warhead, being villainous. Ojiro was doing some stretches to get ready and Peter wasn't entirely sure was Hagakure was doing.

"So...what do you think Hagakure looks li—" Before Ojiro could finish his sentence, his Spider-Sense blared in his head. He had to get off the ground, quickly.

Time slowed down in that instant. There was frost forming on the walls and floor, faster than most people would react to. They were being trapped, and their enemy was trying to incapacitate them fast.

Fast as he could move, Peter fired a web line at Ojiro, pulling him towards him and keeping him close, swinging his elbow under Ojiro's arm and pulling, though not with enough strength to hurt his comrade. Almost sloppily, he began to focus on creating a net of webbing in the floor around them, holding them up and pulling them over himself and Ojiro like a blanket. Once the edges made contact, they had meshed together and formed a cocoon of sorts. Both could hear and feel the ice forming around them, at the walls of the web and on the floor, but due to the properties of Peter's web formula, the ice wouldn't penetrate the cocoon itself, only cling to the walls. The inside did, however, get substantially cold.

"How—how did you know what was going to happen? What even...what is this?" Ojiro touched the walls of the cocoon, trying to shuffle away from Peter, despite how cramped it was.

Soon enough, they could hear footsteps approaching the room.

The steps stopped, likely at the edge of the doorway.

Peter nodded at Ojiro. Ojiro blinked at Peter. They didn't have much of a plan, nor could Peter communicate what his lack of plan was, but he resolved that it could be solved like most problems nowadays. Less thinking.

 **CRASH!**

More punching.

Like a lightning bolt, Peter smashed through the hardened cocoon of webbing, punching through it with all of his spider-proportionate strength. The resulting blast of ice crystals and mist was enough to make their opponent flinch and cover his one exposed eye. Peter recognized him, 'oddly due to the nature of his hair, being half-white and half-red, which he imagined he tried to make a motif out of, covering half of his body entirely in ice.

" _Todoroki, huh? Guy seems like a handful."_ Peter thinks, running and sliding across the ice, charging the student and moving as a streak of red and blue. He reeled his fist back as he got closer, and he could see the fear and surprise in the boy's half-covered face. His pupils dilated, his eyes were wide, and he was taken aback by the sudden challenge, and just as quickly as he saw that fear form, it disappeared and was replaced by a stern resolve. Before Peter could land the blow, a wall of ice formed before him and blocked his fist. It was much thicker denser than the layer formed around the room, meant more for defense. Peter had only left a fist-shaped indentation.

" _Ice Powers then. Not sure how it all works, is it like Iceman? Should I fight him like I'm—"_ Before he could finish his thought, his Spider-Sense rang out once more. At shocking speeds, Todoroki had done a sort of swerve maneuver around the wall, surfing on the ice that formed below his feet and moving behind Peter, and this time Peter wasn't fast enough to intercept. Another wall formed behind him and took the might of Spider-Man's fist again, another indent forming. Now, Peter was trapped between two ice walls, unsure of how his opponent would proceed.

Again, Peter punched the wall behind him, and it shattered to pieces at the force of it, but rather than being met with the stunned face of his enemy, he was met with stalagmites of ice shooting from the ground, two large ones striking the ice wall on both sides of his head, and another between his legs. None of them were with intent to harm, but to distract, and then trap. Now he was pinned, and ice was starting to form around the spots where the spikes had struck the wall and onto his legs. It seemed to be emanating from his right foot, a point of control. Now how could he use that?

Once the first had formed around Peter's forearms and elbows, he was seemingly stuck there. Todoroki didn't seem too tired in the slightest, but there was something noticeably off about him. He was shaking slightly, and Peter could tell that he certainly didn't expect much of a fight from his opponents at all. His shoulders went slack once more and he reverted to his cooler self.

"My ice has you suspended at your joints. You're strong, but if you risk ripping away at your armor and leaving skin open to attack, and that can't be replaced as easily. You can escape and prolong the inevitable, or you can—" It was Todoroki's turn to be cut off, now as he was whipped across the face by the enemy he'd seemingly forgotten about, specifically by a tail. Ojiro had jumped back into the fray, performing a spinning tail-whip on Todoroki and knocking him almost off his feet.

"Good...job!" Peter exclaimed, pulling his arms and legs out of the ice, now tearing up the fabric of his costume as it'd been fused to the ice and therefore, was destroyed along with it. Ojiro didn't stop to return the congratulations as he entered a fierce battle with Todoroki. The half-cold half-hot student was swiping at the ground and taking carefully placed steps back, avoiding attacks from his opponent, while Ojiro went in on a full-on assault, utilizing his speed and martial arts skills, as well as his incredibly strong extra appendage, to keep Todoroki on his toes while weaving out of the way from any ice that was sent his way. It was a fairly even match-up, from the looks of it, but the scales would be tipped as soon as Peter stepped in.

That was, until he felt two hands on his shoulders before he too could leap into action. Turning around, his Spider-Sense tingling at the oncoming danger, a fist made impact with his helmet. It wasn't hard enough to cause any kind of pain, but it was enough to create a noticeable crack in the lense of his helmet. Stood before him was Shoji Mezo, a student with as many arms as Peter probably should have, and a mask covering the lower half of his face. He was tall, very tall, tall enough that Peter seemed like a child when compared to him. He also had about as many arms as one would assume Peter would have, having spider powers and all.

He could tell Shoji wasn't as much of a fighter as Todoroki, his movements were a good deal slower, assuredly weighed down by his many arms, though he was strong. Strong enough that if he landed a hit on Peter, there was a good chance he could actually feel it. So Peter wouldn't allow that, and therefore made short work of him. As another blow came, he caught it, shocking the much taller and stronger looking boy, and threw him into a wall with both arms, and what followed was a glob of webbing that exploded into a net upon impact with his chest, keeping him attached and suspended up the wall. For as much as Shoji shook and strained to get himself free, the webs were far too strong for him to tear through. It was a quick and effortless skirmish, which had Peter feeling almost proud of himself.

He turned as fast as he could, nearly tripping over himself due to the slipperiness of the ice. He saw Ojiro, side-eyeing him apologetically as he was encased in eyes from nearly head to toe, most of it not covering his face.

Todoroki was on the run, making a beeline towards the nuclear weapon as fast as he could. Peter lunged at him, launching himself into the air and almost flying across it, arms held outwards to grab onto the boy and ensure a victory for the 'villains'. He was nearly there, and time seemed to slow as he approached Todoroki, who had sped up his pace ever so slightly.

Peter just had to touch him, grab his arm or even his shirt and he'd be done. His adhesive powers would keep him locked down so he could deliver the final blow, and—

 **CRACK!**

Ice. Ice everywhere. He's surrounded by ice and there's ice in his face and chest and arms and _body_ and it's so hard to move. It's so, so cold. He'd be shaking if his muscles could even move. What even happened? It was so fast he couldn't tell, and only now was his Spider-Sense actually going off.

It takes another moment or two for him to get himself together and realize what's happened. He's trapped in ice, completely and utterly trapped. There's stalactites of ice sticking out from behind him, as if it'd been formed by a sloppily thrown but still concentrated blast. He's able to make out what the outside looks like through his mask, just barely. He can see strange, distorted shapes with the color drained from them, and in those shapes he could make out a single glowing red dot. It was Todoroki. Todoroki froze him completely, perhaps in an act of panic? He was running out of oxygen. Was he going to leave him in there? Ojiro's still trapped, too. There was nothing that could be done.

"The Hero team wins!" He can barely hear the announcement over the loudspeakers. Moments afterward, the ice begins to thaw and Peter could feel himself being able to move again. When he's finally free, wet and shivering and somewhat annoyed, all he can do is stare back at Todoroki, who was giving him this _look_. One that intimidated Peter, to an extent.

"You and I...we're in different leagues." And with that, he was off.

Right.

"Hey! I didn't even get to do anything!"

And Hagakure was there too.

* * *

The other rounds went by about as fast as the second had. Students fought and showed off their powersas they came and went, some with less subtlety than others, as Kaminari showed when he put on the most beautiful light show anyone has ever not seen, because he managed to short out the cameras momentarily. All in all, the mock battles seemed satisfactory in evaluating the skill levels among the students. If he had to be honest, he did kind of enjoy his round, if only because it was one of the first times in a long time he got to fight somewhat seriously and didn't have too much half-cold half-hot student fought with a certain desperation, he noticed. There was definitely a level of skill and finesse to his actions, but he seemed far less focused on testing his skills and more so on accomplishing the task, less in apprehending his opponents. Under normal circumstances, this would be fine, but the exercise was meant to evaluate their skill, not just to show off. Peter took slight issue with that, but he couldn't really be mad at him for something that ultimately didn't have the worst consequences. He could, however, be a bit bothered by his attempts at establishing superiority, through his words and through his actions.

Peter knows that under normal circumstances, he could lay him out more easily. He's handled much, much worse, at least he thinks so.

After the training was over, All Might gave them a short but still rousing talk and sent them on their way. While the class was officially dismissed, a few of the students had opted to visit the nurses office to offer their support to Midoriya. Peter just wanted to go home and take a nice, long rest. Though, if he was being honest, he wasn't really feeling all that tired to begin with. He just had nothing better to do.

Nothing.

So he walked back home like any normal student walking home from school. It was still more than a bit strange feeling to do, given it had been so long since he wasn't constantly trying to squeeze in time to go on patrols. The streets of Musutafu were a fair louder than those of Ditmars Blvd in the evening, though he assumes that it's just the fact that so many of the sounds he's hearing are new. He's having trouble just drowning out the noises of the world around him, and he assumes it has something to do with his 'rebirth', so to speak. He's almost afraid that eventually he _will_ be used to them eventually.

" _I'm also afraid of this hair."_ He stops at a storefront window, examining his semi-translucent reflection. " _May always hated when I let it grows too long. She says it makes my head look round."_ He mindlessly runs his hands through strands of hair, curling them around his fingers.

It was a bit of a walk home, and he didn't know the area well enough from ground level to navigate through the streets as easily as most people. It never occurred to him how much there was to look at, at least when he wasn't jumping across rooftops and telephone poles. It was almost like—

"Arf!"

Like—

"Arf!"

Like he couldn't think with all that barking. He stops in his tracks, running the soles of his feet across the asphalt as he practically skids to a halt. He looks down over his shoulder to the source of the noise and sees a curious thing. A dog, residing within a cardboard box on the side of a bridge. It seemed no older than a few months, still rather small and looking vaguely malnourished. He wasn't any dog expert, but he was pretty sure it was some kind Rottweiler, though it lacked some of the features such as the shape of its snout and ears, both of which resemble more of a German Shepherd. A mix, more than likely. The box was empty, save for a half-eaten sandwich next to the poor pup, and on the side of it, where the initial designs had all but complete faded, there was a message written in red marker. He could barely make it out, but it seemed to say something along the lines of…

"Find home." He says aloud to himself. In response, the dog stares at him with wide, curious eyes, its head tilted slightly.

Peter looks around, trying to spot anyone who may have left the dog there recently, but to his chagrin, the area was mostly quiet save for the odd civilian taking that route home.

He looks at the dog, wondering if he could sleep soundly that night if he just left it.

The puppy's head tilts further.

" _Aw."_

* * *

So Peter had a dog now.

He carries it off and holds it close and over his shoulder, and strangely enough it doesn't seem to relent or fight back in any way. It showed little to no fear when Peter approached it, something almost relieving given his history with animals and other animal-based colorful villains. This dog, however, didn't seem to have a problem with it at all, and whether or not that was because of his age or whatever had happened to him in the past, Peter wouldn't bother questioning it. On the way home, he stopped for dog food, trying to ignore the strange stare the cashier was giving him, and arrived home shortly after.

His apartment wasn't particularly spacious, but it was just enough for him to take care of the dog for however long he had to. He didn't even ow much, so allowing him to have his own little corner of the room where he had propped up some extra pillows and a blanket wouldn't be too much of a bother.

"So…" Peter speaks in between scoops of mint ice cream, barely catching the dog's attention as it scarfed down the opened can of processed meats,"I need to take you to a vet, huh? I'll do that tomorrow, after school."

On the TV was some likely popular reality show that followed the daily lives of heroes in and out of costume. He wondered if any of them could enjoy these kinds of 'luxuries'.

"I should also getcha a name right?" Scoop, chew chew, scoop. "I mean, that's what most people do after getting dogs. Give them names."

"Arf!"

"Maybe...Eugene?"

"Arf!" Chomp chomp, lick.

"Nah, you're right, that's an insult to you. How about...Ben?"

"Ar—!" The dog can barely finish barking as it scarfs down the food, cutting itself off before it choked.

"Yeah. Too weird. Bit dark. Maybe…" And then, he remembers what he found the dog laying next to in that box atop that bridge, "Sandwich? I guess?"

"Arf!"

"Yeah. Sandwich it is, I guess."

He sits in silence for a few minutes, staring idly at the TV. They were doing a bit on Kamui Woods, and he had to admit he was a little bit interested.

He'd find a home for Sandwich later, for now, he'd enjoy the companionship.

 **End**

* * *

 **AN: Wow that sure took a while didn't it? As I said at the top, I know I'm not that great of a writer yet. Any feedback, advice, or offers for proof/beta-reading would be loved. Keep in mind, this story isn't really gonna start off great, this is mostly me trying to sharpen my writing skills and going for a bit of an easier plot to eventually work my way up into harder to handle fandoms, so please tell me ways I can do so.**

 **Uh, sorry I got a bit confusing last chapter with what I was sayin' with the romance. I dunno if it'll be there at all, but if it is, I do wanna hear what you guys think I should do with it, and why or why I shouldn't have it. I don't want it to be distracting at all, so any pointers on how it can be handled are extremely helpful, as I know most romances in fanfic aren't really good and I wanna try my own. Maybe try out some kind of OC character that I'd have to make stand out from the already robust cast + Spidey's already existing romantic interests in the canon? What kind of character would she be? Shy? Arrogant? Cool and collected? Who knows. I sure don't. Like I said, suggestions are always welcome, especially ones with explanations/reasons as well as advice on how to handle it.**

 **Also, I really gotta work on characterization when representing existing characters. Dunno if I'm doing it right. Lemme know how I can improve n such.**

 **I'm thinking of a more natural way to introduce Peter's own short history as Spider-Man into the mix. Feels like I'm checking boxes for what I want him to have experienced.**

 **To visualize Peter's new UA duds, think Aaron Aikman from the Spider-Verse spin-offs but a bit more armored, bulky to contrast Peter's shorter than average stature.**

 **Till we meet again I guess! Apologies for the wait, and thank you for the patience!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 - World Famous**

 **Holy smokes guys! Thanks so much for all the support and kind words, it means a lot! That, as well as all the advice I've been getting, makes me really excited about what I can get this story to be eventually!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man or My Hero Academia. Figured that was obvious, honestly.**

* * *

 _It's been a long night. An eventful one, but weren't they all nowadays?_

 _The many smells and sounds of New York City at night fill his senses as he leaps and swings from point to point, and before he knows it he's already in Queens. He's already home. He went about the usual routine, he'd change into his Peter Parker attire before entering via the front door so as to not cause suspicion, and like any other night he'd tell Aunt May he was out with Harry. She'd be angry at him of course, but it'd be alright in the end. He'd get a fierce lecture and be sent to bed immediately for a good night's sleep._

 _A well-deserved..._

 _ **Click.**_

 _Rest._

 _ **BANG!**_

 _No!_

 _He knows what this is. It's all coming to him now, he knows! He knows with all his heart and soul and brilliant mind! He bursts through the door like a raging bull, he doesn't even bother to open it. Wood and splinters scatter across their hallway. He's just a moment too late. There's blood, so much blood. There's a body on the ground to his right and a man with a gun to his left. He doesn't have time to remember their faces, because in his heart he knew!_

 _But he stops. He can't move anymore, his body isn't responding. For as much as he tries to will himself to do so, he just_ can't _. He wants to, he has to, but some ungodly force won't allow him to!_

 _The armed man blows away the smoke emanating from the barrel of his gun, proceeding to take slow, careful steps towards the doorway behind Peter. There's a woman crying over the body, cries Peter heard so many times in the nights following his transformation, too easily through thin walls and with his enhanced hearing._

 _The gunman stops just short of the door, stops right next to Peter. He tilts his hat up and lets his face come into full view. The light of the moon in the night sky illuminates it all too well. The man's grinning like a kid in a candy store, like he's chatting it up with a good friend and says the haunting words, words that Peter never knew he'd hate so much._

" _Thanks kid, I owe you one!"_

"G-FAH! No—ARGH!" He wakes up, startled, sweating and with tears brimming in his eyes. Not from the events of the dream, but because he'd done a small hop in place while in bed and bashed his scalp into the wall behind him. Sandwich is scared out of bed, hopping off and landing ungracefully on the carpeted floor. Peter touches his chest, his neck, everything, all to remind himself he's there, outside of that nightmare. It was the second one he'd experienced during his time on this Earth, and it was quite possibly the worst. It was just memories, the worst ones, being ripped from the back of his mind and put at the forefront, and he just couldn't bear to live through them again. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stands up, looking down at the startled pup, guilt building up in his chest when he notices the dog's body language. He's reeled back, keeping his head down, as if ready for some kind of impact, something that was going to hurt him. "Sorry puppydog…" The boy whispers into the dog's face, kneeled down in front of it and scratching behind his furry companion's ears. "I'll find you a good home, 'kay? Before I go back to my home. I promise."

He knows that Sandwich doesn't understand what he's saying, but he notices him loosen up slightly, understanding that he wasn't in a dangerous situation. That's enough to satisfy Peter.

"Before that, I gotta get to school. You good here by yourself?"

"Nnnn...nnnn…"

"Say no more. I'll leave out some food for you. I won't be back till later so just...don't chew on any wires."

"Urf?"

* * *

"So, coming from a foreign nation, what's it like to meet All Might himself?"

"My name is Peter Parker."

"Young man, you've said that about seven times already."

" _Heh."_

Being surrounded by reporters while trying to get to class was certainly not what Peter was expecting that morning. They kept on asking him about All Might, nothing else but All Might, and while he can understand their curiosity, they didn't seem to get that he didn't want to talk to them initially. Even if he could answer them properly with what Japanese he knew, he didn't really feel like doing so. So he made a game of it, and tested how long it took for them to walk away and leave him alone.

The answer? Longer than it should.

He knew the muscled up hero was famous, he's seen the merchandise, ate some of it too, but this? This was a level of hype that exceeded most celebrities back home. It was kind of nice knowing his teacher was such a famous guy, cause he assumed it had to be a for a reason that wasn't just his gigantic muscles and winning smile.

Mercifully, the rowdy reporters were kept out by the phenomenally thick steel door at the entrance of the school. It was somewhat satisfying to hear the loud **KLANG** followed by the terrified squeals of the press, as morbid as it sounded.

Suddenly, just as the door had shut behind him and many other incoming students, Peter's Spider-Sense went off, thought it was quieter than usual. It was as if the danger wasn't close, nor was it worth any immediate attention, but it was there, faintly. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. It could mean nothing, but it could also mean a lot of somethings. It didn't matter for now, cause for now, he had class.

"Good work with the training battle yesterday students. I looked over all of your scores and evaluations...Bakugo." Peter's attention diverted from Aizawa to the student in question, who was in his seat, exuding his usual air of concealed rage and arrogance. "You have to grow up already. Stop wasting all of that talent." And with those words, Bakugo stiffened up, and from his confident and over destructive self, he suddenly seemed like any other embarrassed high school student who'd been put on the spot. "Aaand… seems like Midoriya ended the session with a broken arm yet again." This student, however, had gone from being stiff and nervous to shaking and nervous. He had to empathize with the poor kid, he didn't seem too socially active and a bit awkward, almost reminded Peter of himself in a way. "Anyways, on to homeroom business. Sorry for the sudden announcement but today you'll be…"

"Pop quiz?!"

"More battle training?!"

"EXPELLED?!"

"...picking a class president."

Again, the class _exploded_. Not in the Bakugo way, but in the way most students did when they received sudden and exciting news. There were whispers among shouts emanating from the class, with nearly every student wanting to step up to the plate and take on the mantle of president. Peter wasn't entirely sure why they were so excited, wasn't class president just a fake position to get a single student to perform mundane tasks and have private, completely irrelevant and inconsequential discussions with the teachers when class ended? He'd know, he was one in Freshman year. Those were dark days.

"I put forward the motion that our president must be chosen by democratic vote! It is my—"

"But Iida, we haven't even gotten to know each other yet, 'least not enough to want to vote for one another." The girl with unusually wide eyes and a blank, thousand yard stare spoke this time. From what Peter remembered, she was supposed to have the physiology of a frog.

"Yeah, and everyone's just gonna vote for themselves anyhow!" Said the one with spiked red hair, Kirishima, was it?

"Which is precisely why anyone who earns more than one vote is the most suited for the role!" Peter couldn't help but notice the constant, intensely exaggerated hand gesticulations Iida seemed to do almost on auto-pilot.

"I think it is a good idea." Came Peter's response this time. He was met with a few short but curious glances from other students, with the exception of ones he already knew (Kaminari, Mineta, Ojiro) and one's that didn't care (Bakugo).

Iida cleared his throat.

"As you can see, others agree with this motion as well! Will you allow this to proceed, Aizawa-Sensei?"

"Yeah yeah, just make it quick." The teacher responded.

" _Where'd he even get that sleeping bag?"_ Was Peter's only thought on the matter.

Later, in a decisive vote, both Midoriya and Yaoyorozu were voted as president and vice president respectively. The green haired boy looked properly horrified at the fact that he'd gotten a whole three votes, whereas the taller girl seemed a bit more disappointed at the fact that she didn't win the main position. Peter got zero votes, not that he cared or anything.

(He especially didn't care because he didn't even vote for himself. He voted for Midoriya.)

And then there was lunch, and like before, he sat alone at the end of a filled table, quietly eating his meal.

"Heya."

Which, of course, was not going to last very long.

Looking up from his tray, he found himself staring into the face of a girl he didn't recognize. She sported luxuriant blonde hair and blue eyes, and features that were clearly not entirely Japanese. At least, not at first glance they weren't. Not only that, but she addressed him in _English_ , a language he hasn't heard someone properly address him with since he spoke with Mic sometime back. Oh, and she had horns. Gigantic horns. Sharper than knives and formed in a lyre-like shape. She seemed nice enough, giving him a kind smile and seeming to keep her distance somewhat, if only so that she wouldn't seem strange or intrusive.

" _As much as I don't want to talk…"_

He looked at her again, and she was still smiling. His mind goes back to meeting Sandwich on that bridge the night before, the way he couldn't resist that look the pup was giving him before he finally caved. He couldn't be that cruel, especially not to a _girl_.

"Hey, uh—hi. Sorry, a bit surprised. Haven't spoken to anyone else here who can speak English."

"You too huh? Trust me, it gets easier to talk to people once you try, buuut~," she trailed off for a moment, putting a finger on her chin in thought, "Ohmygod! Sorry, I haven't even introduced myself! I'm Pony. Pony Tsunotori!" With that she flashed him a wide grin, holding out her hand and offering a shake, to which Peter responded to appropriately.

"Peter. Peter Parker. You can call me Peter, not just Parker like, y'know, everyone else."

"Awesome. Nice ta'meetcha Peter!"

A strangely comfortable silence hangs over them as they eat, but the conversation didn't seem to end, at least not until Pony wanted it to. "So what's your story?" She asks, resting her elbow on the table and her head in her hand, seeming genuinely interested in whatever Peter had to say. If he had to guess, she was having just as much trouble as he was making interacting and making new friends.

"Oh, I…" " _Transfer student? Scholarship? Family?"_ "I was asked to attend after...uhm, some stuff happened. I spoke to Mic, a while back. He offered."

"Woah, you were ASKED to be here? Must've had some impressive grades if they came to you personally. So did you have to take the special entrance exam? For recommended students?"

"Uh, no. Just the normal one, I guess. With the robots."

"Ooohhh."

"Yeah. I don't really have family here or anything, so I was a bit nervous coming but…" he looks up for a moment, his mind trailing off to some distant place, "it's been kinda nice, I guess? Living by myself."

"By yourself? At only fifteen! Jeeze."

"Yeah. It's been hard getting used to it but…"

"I mean, I can't imagine! I'm lucky and have family over here y'know? Since I'm half-Japanese."

"I figured, Tsunotori huh?"

"Yeah. Get it from my Dad, he's from here actually. Musutafu, I mean, so when he heard I'd get to go to U.A. he was _a bit_ excited."

"I could imagine, didn't even know about this school before I came and now I can't seem to avoid hearing about how prestigious it is."

"Yeah, right? With all those reporters out there, you'd think there was some big gathering of celebs."

"Well, there are. If you can call Aizawa a celebrity." Peter spoke in a joking tone, showing faux-admiration for the less than sociable teacher.

"With that smile? I bet he's got a ton of adoring fans just waiting outside!"

"And don't forget those charming eyes of his." That one got a laugh out of Pony, and for once, Peter felt comfortable talking to someone else, more so than he did before at least. They talked about a few more things afterward, discussing the things they missed about the U.S., what they like about the school, what they dislike, the kinds of things friends would talk about.

" _Yeah. Friends…"_ Peter let the thoughts slip in wistfully when they'd entered a bout of a silence. In truth, even after he'd become Spider-Man, he never really had many friends. Harry Osborn, for one, but they'd only really become friends out of circumstance. Harry's grades were slipping hard and he needed someone to help him get more than a C on his exams, and Peter was just there, and being the best and brightest at Midtown he was more than enough to bump those grades. They'd gotten along well afterward, and saw each other for what they were, beyond what anyone else saw them as anyways. Harry was always seen as the spoiled rich kid, which of course, but there was so much more under that. Deep down he was a thoughtful kind of guy, much more empathetic than people would assume he was. Peter? Peter was just the wallflower. The loser who never spoke but always got excellent grades and was constantly the subject of people's jokes. In other cases, he was just Flash Thompson's punching bag for when he needed to release some frustration at his own terrible grades, or otherwise. But Harry saw past that, and in Freshman year they'd become friends in the span of a few weeks.

He'd gotten to know Liz somewhat, but given her own academic status, they were sort of rivals in their own way. He was, of course, the smarter of the two, even if she scored a single point higher than he did on the PSAT, but to be fair, he hasn't slept much that night because he was busy fighting a lizard man in the sewers. Really, what did she contribute to society anyways?

Then there was Mary Jane, who, in all honesty, never spoke to Peter very much after High School started, but that changed after he told her he'd gotten superpowers. Which, admittedly, was a bit of a sly tactic to impress her. It made him question the legitimacy of their friendship, if just for a moment. Did she really care about Peter Parker, or did she just think it was cool to have a superhero for a friend? Is that even a question he should be asking?

"So, what do you think that invisible girl in 1-A looks li—" Pony was cut off by the piercing sound of the school's alarm. The intensely loud **VREEEEE** reverberated off the walls and down the hallways, and before he knew it, Peter was stood at attention, looking around for dangers unknown.

" _Spider-Sense isn't even going off. The heck is this? Could it be the thing from earlier?"_

.:Security Level Three Has Been Broken!:.

Iida, in a flurry of hand movements, asks the burning question. "What's security level three!"

"It means somebody's infiltrated the building!"

"Everyone, hurry up and scatter out of here!"

What followed was comparable to a Macy's during the Black Friday sale. It was absolute, immeasurable chaos as the students had piled up to the doors that led out of the lunch room. Panic, fear and desperation had crept into their minds, and in those feelings they'd thrown aside all logic and reasoning and instead opted to take the road most dangerous and wild. So, exactly like Macy's during Black Friday.

"What's going on?!"

"I'm getting crushed!"

"Can't—breath!"

Before he could be caught in the oncoming tidal wave of people, Peter had leapt up to the wall, now sitting up vertically and clinging to the walls by just his feet. He could see Pony's horns from the front of the crowd, and she too was panicking along with everyone else. She'd apparently moved incredibly fast, because the group had formed rather quickly and they were seated near the back of the room.

"Who could've gotten through the walls?! And the security?!"

"Wait a sec, it's—!"

" _The press."_ Peter sighed in his head when he spotted the familiar crowd of reporters holed up in front of the school. It almost reminded him of one of those zombie apocalypse films. They were all screaming for All Might, for just one picture or interview, but it stood they posed no real danger to the students. They were just really, really annoying. Sprinting from the crowd and seemingly flying through the air down the hallway came Iida, who used the boosters in his legs to send him spiraling into the opposite wall. It was a pretty comical sight, he had to admit. With a mighty yell he announced to the students that it was just the press, taking a role of leadership quickly and dutifully. "There's nothing to be concerned about! You're U.A. Students! Act in a way befitting of this illustrious institution!"

Peter couldn't have said it better himself, however, while the students calmed down and praised the bespectacled lad, his own mind was occupied with another thought. " _Who let the press in?"_ It was rather concerning, given the circumstances. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that whatever triggered his Spider-Sense earlier had to have been connected with the press infiltrating the school. But why? Who? He didn't know where to start, or if it was even a cause for concern. It could've just been a reporter who'd gotten fed up with waiting and busted the walls down with whatever quirk he had, or…

No. If someone was strong enough to bust down a steel door that thick, they probably wouldn't even be a reporter. It was most certainly some other outside influence.

If Peter had the choice, he'd put his mask on and stick his nose where he really shouldn't right about now, but as it stands, he doesn't even have a place to start except the gate itself, which is probably already swimming with faculty and staff, so even if he wanted to check out to 'crime scene' he couldn't. All he could do was wait until something else came up.

* * *

"I believe that Iida should be the class president!"

It wasn't all that surprising to Peter, in a way. Midoriya didn't really come off as the type to take a leadership position so easily, not yet at least, so him giving it up to someone who was far more eager to made sense. Plus, after that display in the lunch hall, it felt like he deserved it for handling the situation so well. There wasn't anything that stood out after that during school, just classes and little else. Before you could say 'Excelsior', the school day was over, and Peter was strolling out just as he's done before, only now…

"Hey, Peter!"

"Oi, Parker!"

He snapped around and saw the two culprits. To his right was a small group that consisted of Kirishima, Kaminari, and behind them Mineta, and to his left was Pony. The two parties looked at each other oddly before walking up to him. Suffice to say, the Parker boy was dumbfounded, more than he reasonably should be at the fact that people were approaching him. Willingly.

"Hey, we just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out with us. We tried askin' Bakugo but he...yelled at us. We would've invited Midoriya but he still seems a bit beaten up by the whole thing earlier."

"Oh, arr youh guyys frans of Parker's?" Pony addressed the other group, curiously, speaking in Japanese, and to Peter's surprise it was somehow a bit worse than his was.

"Yeah! Hey, you're that girl from 1-B right? The transfer student?"

"H-Haiiyyee?" She was _really_ struggling.

Speaking of struggling, Peter couldn't help but notice the way Kirishima was subtlety holding Mineta behind him so his lecherousness couldn't touch the poor soul he preyed upon.

"Well if you two have uh— _plans_ , then we don't wanna interrupt!" Came Kaminari, who offered a wink to the poor boy in question.

Deep down, a promise was made that Peter would get revenge for this moment. Some way, somehow.

"Oh! It's nawt lyke 'at!" She laughed and waved off the comment, though she was noticeably not very comfortable with it either.

"And I uh, gotta go. Dog!" Peter shakily announced, turning away and leaping into the air faster than they could track. Before they knew it, he'd disappeared completely.

"What'd he say about a dog?"

* * *

Said dog had seemingly fallen into some sort of food coma.

Peter was rubbing the poor thing's belly as it was completely out cold, but breathing perfectly. He wondered if the trip to the vet was even worth the trouble, because from what he could tell, Sandwich was a perfectly healthy pup. Just needed some food. But then again, he wasn't an expert, nor would he pretend to be one, so he opted to do it _later_. Irresponsible? Most certainly, but he feels he should try to nurse the pup back to health before anything, not to mention the possibility that they'd take him away. Maybe even have him adopted sooner rather than later, and a part of Peter didn't want that, as strange as it was. For now, he'd get Sandwich the basic necessities. After he'd woken up the stubborn dog (and he swears he could almost hear the dog asking for five more minutes of sleep) he had went off with it into the night. Still carrying him as he did so, and still getting a weird look or two because of it. "I need to get you a collar, first things first, then a proper bed. Maybe a toy to keep you busy, huh?" He spoke to the puppy that was resting its head on his shoulder, which responded with a small whimper. For an animal that didn't understand a word he was saying, Sandwich was strangely receptive to almost everything he said.

In the back of his mind, he kept on thinking of the incident at school. As much as he wanted to investigate, he really didn't have much to go off of nor was he as acquainted with the criminal underworld in Musutafu, if they had anything to do with it in the first place. But it couldn't have been something harmless or without future consequences considering that whatever 'it' was set off his Spider-Sense. If criminal/villain interference is part of it, what's their end goal? Do they plan to infiltrate the school, or was it simply to create a distraction for something they've already done?

"Sir. Sir? Are you alright?" A concerned voice puts him at attention and he turns to look at the teenaged cashier, whose face was curled into a tired frown. "You've been standing there for eight minutes. Oh, and your dog went to aisle four. It's uh...browsing?" With that, Peter's eyes widened and he nearly dropped the can of dog food that he'd been holding all that time when he sprinted to stop the dog before it did anything he'd have to pay for.

Crime can wait, for now, he needed to buy some dog shampoo.

* * *

" _Maybe I could get a job."_ Peter thought as he bounced off a rooftop entrance, dressed in full uniform. It was the morning after getting all of the amenities for taking care of Sandwich, and he was thankfully going to be on time for school once again. It was getting a lot easier to wake up at a proper time again, especially since the dog would act as an extra alarm clock if the actual alarm clock didn't work. It was an almost pleasant morning, and he wasn't plagued by any night terrors while in bed, so overall, he was feeling a lot more energetic and ready to face the day than he was yesterday. " _Or maybe ask for some kind of raise? Do I even know where the money's coming from? I think it's just the school. Do I ask Mic?"_ There was a noticeable amount of flamboyance in the way he moved on this particular day. He was being a bit more flashy, using his agility in less conventional ways as he moved across the city. He chalked it up to his mood, and the fact that things were simply looking up for him overall. A lot of it was based on pure instinct, after all, so it wouldn't surprise him if his state of mind played into the way he did things. It was something that never occurred to him until just recently, in fact. Before the bite, he couldn't even perform a proper cartwheel, now look at him. It should've ticked a lot sooner.

 **thoom**

A booming noise sounds off in the distance, causing Peter to snap his head in its direction. Above it he sees a yellow-clad figure, moving at near subsonic speeds in the direction of the school. His superhuman vision could tell who it was—All Might, likely on his morning commute. He was intensely fast, and apparently extremely powerful given the height of that leap. He was practically flying.

Upon arriving at school, he had blended in to the small crowd of students that were quickly making its way to their respective classes.

The quiet tingles of Spider-Sense keep him alert. There's something there, lying in wait. The hairs on his arms are standing, softly rubbing against his costume underneath. Not a single suspicious thing in sight, and unlike most instances, Spider-Sense wasn't offering specific orders or escape maneuvers, just a cold sense of unease. Like it was telling him to get ready.

The day goes on with business as usual, with Peter greeting Pony while on his way to class. By the time it hits 12:50, they're back in Homeroom and Aizawa's stepping up to make an announcement.

"Now for today's Hero Training, we'll be preparing you for disaster relief. Fires, earthquakes, floods too."

"So it's rescue training!" Came multiple voices. Peter had to wonder how they'd sometimes speak as a single hive mind.

"Rescue? Dang—seems like it'll be a rough day." Kaminari whispers loudly enough for his classmates to hear, leaning back in his seat and looking at Ashido.

"But that's what being a hero's all about man! I'm pumped for this one!" Came Kirishima, who spoke significantly louder.

"A flood seems perfect for me, _ribbit_."

" _Rescue huh? Guess it won't be too different from the usual."_ Was Peter's only thought.

His Spider-Sense wouldn't shut up. There was something. He knew it. It was irritating him beyond rational thought. Still, for now he'd just have to tolerate it, and with that the class was ordered to suit up and get to the bus waiting for them outside. Midoriya, whose suit had been completely ruined by the training session days prior, would have to wear his P.E. uniform rather than his actual costume. Though Peter's own costumed was damaged at the elbows, it was negligible at best and could be repaired fairly easily, plus he already wore a costume underneath, so if it got anymore damaged he could always shed the second layer if need be. It did look kind of awkward, though. On the way to the bus, Iida, the well-ordered mind he was, had insisted that they all be seated in the most orderly fashion possible, by their I.D. numbers. Even though no one agreed to this, the seating arrangements weren't exactly fit for that kind of organization.

A few of the students were seated closer to the middle of the bus, with two rows of chairs facing one another while more traditional seating booths took up the back area of the bus. There were four people on each end of the front rows, all forced to look right at eachothers faces. Peter sat in the front, right between Ashido and Kaminari, and needless to say given his attitude toward social interaction, it was a bit awkward. For him at least.

"You know Midoriya, I generally like to say what's on my mind." Asui the Frog Girl cut the short silence when she spoke, turning to her fellow green-themed student.

"Oh? W-What's on your mind, Asui-sa-"

"Call me Tsuyu."

Another short silence and Peter wasn't sure if she was going to continue.

"Your quirk is a lot like All Might's."

Midoriya experienced what Peter only called the 'Unmasking Effect'. It was something he experienced only twice so far, when someone is able to put the pieces of your elaborate secret together and make a big reveal out of it. Your only options, if you were as socially awkward as Peter or Midoriya, were to sputter and try to detract attention from yourself or relent and reveal yourself. He exploded into a mess of muttering and stuttering, nearly unintelligible as he spoke. That's when it clicked for Peter, and it was almost kind of obvious when he thought about it. Asui had made the connection sooner, or at least observed the fact that they were extremely similar but didn't think much of it beyond that. All Might and Midoriya had to have some relation, right? They didn't look the same, but he's seen All Might's power first hand, albeit briefly and from a long distance, and Midoriya exhibited similar power during all their training exercises, and especially during the entrance exam. Though Midoriya's was untamed, his body couldn't seem to handle that kind of pressure, so it would stand to reason that he'd need some training from someone with strikingly similar abilities. Illegitimate son? Nephew? Apprentice? Whatever the case may be, he was admittedly curious.

It was then, in the middle of his inner detective duty, that he realized that his Spider-Sense had stopped entirely. Whatever dangers that were causing it to go off quietly earlier were apparently gone or were no longer anything to worry about. But that didn't mean his Peter Parker Sense wasn't still on high alert.

"Well I mean, uh, really? Nah-I guess it does but, I mean, it isn't like, I mean, uh…" Peter couldn't help but flinch at the sight of it.

"Hold up Tsuyu! All Might doesn't get hurt when HE uses his power, so that's kind of a huge difference between'em!" Kirishima cut in before anyone else, and he was right. Midoriya did hurt himself when he used his power, but those kind of negative side-effects could be due to lack of training. Only time would tell. "But a strength enhancing quirk like that's pretty awesome. You could do a heckuva lot with that. Not like mine…" The crimson-headed student raised his arm and activated his power, his skin and muscle fibers morphing into a hard sort of extremely dense crystal at his whim. "All I've got is hardening. I can fight, but it's kinda boring compared to yours."

"I think that's really cool though! I-I mean, you'd make it pretty far if you go pro!" Midoriya responds, likely relieved at the fact that attention was no longer on him. He could see a legitimate interest and passion in the green haired boy's eyes, a sudden spark of intrigue at Kirishima's powers.

"Don't forget, heroes also have to worry about popular appeal~" It was Aoyama who cut into the conversation this time, head rested in both his hands and looking upon his classmates with the same stilted smile. "My navel laser's strong, and has looks to go with it. Perfect for a pro, if I say so myself."

"Yeah, s'long as you don't blow up your own stomach!"

" _That just seemed hurtful."_ Peter thinks, leaning back in his seat and staring at the ceiling. Maybe he could get short nap in.

"If you wanna talk strong and cool, I'd think of Bakugo or Todoroki and-hey! You too Parker!" Kirishima moved the conversation forward, now looking at the foreign student in front of him.

"I, uh, really?" Peter looked up slowly once more, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

"Well yeah! You may have lost to Todoroki then, but you still put up a better fight than anyone else could've! Plus, you were able to beat Shoji faster than you could say 'I am here!' you know?"

"I guess." He mutters quietly, curling into himself somewhat and looking down. He didn't really know how to take the compliment. He's flattered, honestly, but he's not sure how he feels being called 'cool'. It's nice, but…

Sensing the slowly creeping awkwardness, Asui cuts in. "You are pretty cool, Parker. But Bakugo's really unhinged. A guy like him wouldn't ever be popular."

"What'd you say fly-eater?!"

"See what I mean?"

"Seriously dude, we've only started talkin' and you've made it abundantly clear just how unpleasant your steaming turd of a personality is." Came a rather snide comment from none other than Kaminari.

Under his mask Peter smirked.

"Y'think big words'll intimidate me? How's about I pound you into the ground, huh?!"

"My, what a churlish exchange…"

"C'mon Momo, I think it's pretty fun!"

"Seriously Bakugo, you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Look sharp brats, we're here." Aizawa cut off the pandemonium before it could get any worse.

Once they were led out of the bus and finally inside, someone had to come out and ask. "Are we in Universal Studios Japan!?" Which, to be fair, was a pretty valid question. It looked as though it was designed to be a theme park more than a training facility. A large fountain-decorated centerpiece, several sections with their own different disaster scenarios that they'd be training for, it was kind of ridiculous. Peter couldn't imagine the amount of money poured into constructing these facilities.

"This place has any dilemma you can imagine, from fires to floods and landslides alike. I call this place...the Unforseen Joint Simulation! USJ, for short!" Came the voice of the apparent 'Space Hero', Thirteen. It was a clever name.

"Such a gentleman! Thirteen does the best work in these kind of rescue scenarios!" Came Ochako, who was positively fangirling at the sight of the pro.

"Where's All Might? Thought he'd be meeting us here." Aizawa asked, stepping up to the side of his fellow instructor.

"About that...he reached his 'limit' during his commute this morning. He's taking a rest in the breakroom."

Peter's ears could catch that, just faintly. What'd they mean 'limit'?

"Eugh, the very height of his irrationality… In any case, we should still get this started."

"Great!" Thirteen turns to the expectant students. "As I'm sure you're all well-aware, my quirk, Black Hole, can suck and tear apart anything I direct it at!"

"You've used it to save a ton of people from disasters! It can suck in fires and water and-" Midoriya's excitement was cut off by Thirteen raising a finger.

"Precisely young man, however if used improperly, my power could very easily cause civilian harm, and even death. And I've no doubt that some of your quirks can experience the same kind of deficiencies. In our society, the very use of quirks is heavily restricted and monitored, and while it seems stable, we must always keep in mind that a single wrong move could have most dire consequences." Thirteen pauses for a moment, letting the information sink in. "The combat training you did with All Might showed just how you can use your quirks to cause harm to others, but this session will introduce you to a new perspective! You'll be using your powers to save lives!"

"That's all, thank you for listening!" With a bow, Thirteen concluded the speech. The hero was met with an uproar of clapping and praise from the more vocal students, especially Uraraka and the ever so energetic Iida.

"Thank you for the speech Thirteen." Their homeroom teacher lazily continued, leaning on a railing. "So, first off-"

Now Spider-Sense was blaring like it normally would. The tingles came in strong waves of pressure along the base of his head, warning him of an immediate danger, and whatever that little black hole forming at the edge of the stairway by the water fountain was, that was the most likely cause.

From it emerged a hand. Pale, calloused, as if it belonged to some otherworldly monster. The owner of the hand pried themselves out of the portal, revealing their terrifying visage. Most of their facial features with the exception of their eyes were covered by a hand-modeled face mask. The same kind of mask attached the back of his head, and as he would crawl out he would reveal more hands circulating around his body. It was disturbing, completely and utterly so. Whoever this man was, he was making Spider-Sense go insane just by looking at him. It was intimidating visage and Peter's own heightened senses that made the pressure caused by his very presence all the more impactful. From the portal there emerged more nefarious ne'er-do-wells, big and small, each one increasing the intensity of Peter's senses. Very few times had he felt this level of danger. The completely raw animal instinct to run and find shelter nearly clouded Peter's instincts, whoever these people were, they were here to _kill_.

"Get to safety! These are villains! Leave now and I'll hold them back!" Aizawa yelled, slipping on those curious looking shades and leaping into the fray. The villains were gathered at the bottom of the stairs, dozens of them grouped together, looking like a mismatched group of superpowered psychopaths. Strange, terrifying masks adorned each of their faces with the exception of the few whose quirks had mutated them to look inhuman in a way. The largest of them, a great, muscly black creature with the beak-shaped mouth like that of a Woodpecker but the body of a man, grotesquely jagged looking teeth around the bottom edges of the beak, and a long, slimy tongue. At the top of its head, the flesh of its brain was completely exposed, the eyes sunken into it. It was covered in more than a few terrible scars that seemed to have never fully healed. And quite mercifully, it was wearing a pair of shorts. It was all quite daunting, very overwhelming for a group of green kids who had barely dipped their toes in the water, suddenly being pulled down into the depths. Any sane person would listen to their teacher's orders and run for safety. Any sane person would aid the other students in their escape, running off to find more suitable help.

Any sane person would, but Spider-Man was never all there.

"So, who the heck're you guys supposed to be? Butt Ugly Villains Anonymous?" Came a confusingly confident yell in perfect English, a voice Aizawa recognized. With a swiftness that impressed and worried Class 1-A's teacher, the Parker boy had made it down into the battlefield in record time. Both could hear the shocked and worried cries of the students up above, the way that they were arguing about what they should do, but Peter didn't really seem to care. He didn't seem to care about a lot of things, including his own safety.

"What!" The teacher wrapped his scarf around two of the likely weaker villains in a flash, one of which he'd already deactivated the quirk of to give him an opening. He hoisted them up overhead and bashed their skulls together, knocking them out almost instantly. "Are you doing!?" He looks up only to see Spider-Man plant his foot firmly on another villain's masked face, dispatching the rather large multi-armed man in an instant and using his head as a pivot point to launch himself into the air again.

"Helping!" The teen responded in broken Japanese, firing a webline and hoisting himself up into the air to avoid a razor-sharp spike sent his way. The villains were scattering, trying desperately to land a hit on either of them, one of which almost did given that the teacher was distracted with his damn-near suicidal student. His response was to wrap his scarf around another villain and use him as a wrecking ball of sorts.

In the distance, watching as his small militia of criminals is torn apart by a terribly short boy dressed in garish red and blue and a teacher who hated his job, Shigaraki sighs. "Now I see. I expected Eraserhead to be this capable but one of the students, especially the American kid...What a pain…" He places two fingers on his face, thinking for a moment.

Peter notices that both he and the large black bird man haven't left their spots since they started, and for some reason that scares him.

"Get back to the class, idiot! I can-NNG!-take it from here!"

"Make. Things. Easy!" Peter forced out through bated breaths. He was focused far too much on fighting, communicating was difficult when he hadn't gotten the hang of Japanese just yet.

Suddenly, the fighting stops, the villains surrounding both Spider-Man and Eraserhead, both standing side to side within the center of them.

"Stop being irrational you-" He's cut off by creeping feeling that something was wrong. He looks up the stairs and only sees the a large black mist, blocking any exit for the students. Whatever it was, it was definitely what got them there in the first place.

"Greetings, students. My name is Kurogiri. We apologize for interrupting class time, but we, the Villain Alliance, are here to fulfill our one simple goal." Peter's ears caught the dialogue happening above. As fast as he could, he fired a webline at the stairs, aiming to propel himself upward and intervene.

"Nomu, stop him." He hears.

He feels a large, muscled hand wrap around his leg, just as he manages to get in the air.

"To engage in battle with your 'symbol of peace', All Might. We were hoping that this would be the perfect opportunity, you see."

He tries to get loose, but he can't. Whatever's grabbing him is much too strong, much too fast. Thirteen says something amidst all the panic, something heroic he assumes, but he's too busy trying to pull away. He turns and he's looking right into the eyes of the so-called Nomu. There's an explosion up above, like fighting's started, but just as fast as it began, it ended.

"So now, you will be scattered across this wonderfully constructed training site!"

Suddenly, Peter feels himself being pulled away faster and with more force than his web could handle. The line snaps and he's at the mercy of the monster grabbing him. He's not at good enough of an angle to even try to hit it. Aizawa yells his name, and something tells him he's going to be in a world of pain soon.

"And then you will be tortured!"

Faster than his mind could even hope to process in that moment, he's thrown like a football, right into the base of a tree. The wood snaps at the impact and he's still flying.

"And then you will be slain!"

Something wakes up within Spider-Man in that moment, but maybe it's just the intense pain caused by flying head-first into a tree. He hasn't been in this kind of life-threatening danger in far too long. His body and mind remember it all too well, he barely has to think about how he'll follow up.

The most he needs to factor in is the speed he's traveling at and his weight and size, both of which aren't nearly enough to be fatal. He's moving into water, if he falls in that'd delay him by far too long. So first, he fires two weblines from each of his wrists.

 **Thwi-Thwip!**

They land perfectly on the Nomu's arm. It barely notices it, too busy now staring at it's second prey, Aizawa, who stared back at it. He cuts off the flow of webbing and grips the lines with all of his strength, and like a rubber cord they distend and stretch until they retract. This wasn't his first rodeo. Granted, he's only done this kind of thing a few times before, but it usually worked. So he's launched right back at the thing at nearly the same speed he was thrown. His agility and sense of direction is barely thrown off, by virtue of having a superhuman sense of equilibrium, and he's able to spin himself mid-air so his body's facing up, feet primed to smash right into the thing's side.

"You know, you're the second ugliest thing I've ever had to fight so far!" He quips as the hit lands, knocking it off balance. It's flesh was tough, tougher than Peter's own if he had to guess, but with his strength he figured he could hold it off. He bounces off its side, flipping and landing a few feet away in a crouch. He has its attention now, and with a terrible screech it turns to him.

"But you do have the worst singing voice. Trust me, you're no Celine Dion." The teen says, firing a glob of webbing at its face. It reacts as expected, furiously ripping it off in record time, but just as it does there's a scarf wrapping around its neck, and Aizawa is desperately trying to pin it down. It's much too strong however, even with him using his quirk on it.

"Its quirk doesn't seem to be its strength!" The Nomu grabs onto the scarf and with a mighty roar rears its arm back, throwing the teacher off balance.

"Then what is?!" Peter's nearly interrupted by his own Spider-Sense, his body moving on its own and barely dodging a hand that was primed to grip the side of his head. He's leaning back, back nearly touching the ground and looking right into the creepy red eye of who he assumed to be the ringleader.

"Wow, you're not all that bad kid~" The young man speaks in a voice that makes Peter's skin crawl. "Even if I didn't get to meet All Might, you and Eraserhead are still pretty amazing!" He moves quite a lot faster than Peter expected, driving his other hand into the ground where Peter's face previously was. The teen was still quite a bit faster though, already up and on his feet. A quick succession of strikes followed, with Peter dodging each and every one.

"You. Slow." Peter said in between strikes, trying to squeeze in an insult that the villains could actually understand. In a moment between strikes, Peter fires a web at the man's hand, attaching it to the ground, and then another at his foot. He doesn't comedically trip like Peter was hoping he would, he instead just stops.

"I'm impressed by how good you are, honestly! For a student, you might've had a bright future." The man chuckles sinisterly, and somehow Peter could tell there was a smile under than face-hand of his.

" _Might've? You're the one pinned down, genius."_ Peter thinks, ready to land a quick strike on the villain and knock him out of the game.

"But you seem to have a bit of trouble paying attention~"

Spider-Sense, _again_. He's up in the air in a moment's notice, narrowly dodging a blow from the Nomu. It screeches when it attacks and he feels it was quite angry at the hit Peter landed earlier. The teen intended to follow up, landing on the creature's back like some kind of pest and punching it right in the base of the spine. Like before, he expected some kind of reaction, for it to lurch in pain at the force of his fist.

But there was nothing, heck, Peter barely even felt the punch land.

"And by the way, Nomu's quirk?"

There's a hand wrapped around his head in an instant. He struggles to beat it off as fast as possible, but once more it felt like he was punching air. Nothing was affecting it.

"Shock absorption."

" _Oh."_

Peter is smashed into the ground, back-first and spread eagle. The sheer force of it creates a small crater where he was once stood, Shigaraki having stepped away after he freed himself. While writhing in pain, he could see what once remained of his webbing, seemingly degraded beyond salvation. As if it'd been left to rot for years in the back of a closet. Directly above him, Nomu stares, likely ready to reduce him into a stain in the pavement. The Nomu's fist reels back and Spider-Sense is acting up yet again. He fires two webs at the fountain, pulling himself up and out of the crater, coasting in between the Nomu's legs just as its fist made the crater even larger. He releases the webbing, rolling into a crouched position and skidding across the ground slightly. He's staring right at Nomu, Shigaraki and a myriad of other villain's who had already resigned to just watching the slaughter.

" _The Hell's Aiza-..."_ He spots the teacher mid-thought after a moment of searching. The legendary Eraserhead was looking not-so legendary anymore, face down on the ground, his arm twisted in a way that nearly made him want to throw up. Blood pooled around his head, staining his hair and scarf.

"So, red and blue brat…" He turns back to the villains when he hears ShigarakI's voice, lowering his body slightly, as if bracing for some kind of impact. His mind raced for a solution, an escape to this terrible situation he was faced with, but he could find none. It was just like…

Just like _then_. That evening the park. That evening where he…

"What are you going to do now?"

He didn't know.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**

 **I feel like a lot happened this chapter, but I haven't really been trying to dwell on things too much yet. If I did, things would be too slow going wouldn't they? I want to try to do so as we get into the later arcs, but for now, I feel like this is the right thing to do.**

 **Again, any and all feedback is appreciated. I wanna improve as much as possible. Thanks for taking the time to read, seeya' round.**


	8. Chapter 8

**8 - Twists, Turns, and Third Degree Burns**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any characters used in this story other than the ones of my own creation that may or may not happen in the future. Damn copyright laws.**

* * *

Spider-Man has had some really bad days. This one wasn't the worst, all things considered. But undeniably, it was pretty terrible.

"You know, if you pop in a nickel I'll tell a really funny joke!"

 **CRACKATHOOM!**

"Guess they just go through you huh?" Spider-Man quips, narrowly ducking under a punch from the hulking black monster that challenged him. The fist collided with the large, and likely incredibly thick wall that led into one of the USJs many havoc simulation areas. The Nomu was incredibly fast, incredibly strong, and nigh invincible. Any hits that Peter landed were nullified entirely by its shock absorption, something Peter unfortunately lacked. How long has this even been going? A few minutes, at least. Peter's tailor-made armored costume was already hanging by feeble threads. With the hard plastic cracked and pieces of it almost entirely ripped apart, even his helmet had a massive crack going down the side, with both of the lenses cracked just slightly, not enough to impair his vision. Fortunately so, because if they did he probably wouldn't have the time to get the helmet off before he's hit again. Which, obviously, he doesn't want.

Yet another punch came almost immediately after and Peter had to try to tell his Spider-Sense to shut up because the danger was right in front of him. This time, rather than dodging, he raises his arms and braces for the impact. There's a plan being cooked in his head somewhere, but he just needed to follow the scent and find it.

" _Can't check on Aizawa. He's bleeding way too much I-I have to try to buy some time!"_ The large fist hits his forearms and yet again Peter is sent spiralling away. He feels his bones crack ever so slightly, the broken up bits of calcium and collagen trying their best to repair themselves as quickly as possible. There's a slight gust of wind as he does, but he has just enough of a bearing on his balance to get himself on the ground again. " _The others are still by the entrance door, most of them anyway. If I try to get away from this thing, the leader might send it up to them. I can't let that happen."_ The Nomu seizes up on him at speeds that contradicted its incredible size, fist reared back to hit him yet again. " _They're just watching me fight this thing! They want to watch it rip me limb from limb, what kind of sick and twisted people are they!?"_ He fires a webline between its legs, sliding under them as quickly as he could and letting the Nomu's fist hit air. It makes a frustrated screeching noise.

" _Maybe find a tighter place, somewhere not so open. Throw it off? No. Won't work, it barely reacts to things. It'll just smash through it all."_

He fires a webline at the Nomu's back while it was still searching for him. The thing wasn't particularly smart, and while one could assume that'd be an advantage, that actually made it quite a lot harder. It was a single-minded, animalistic monster that only wanted to rip him apart. He couldn't quip at it and wear it down through psychological warfare, nor could he appeal to its more human self. He really wishes it would say something, anything like a normal villain would say, because vanity is a weakness. And he isn't finding any weaknesses. Well, besides one that came to mind. The Nomu's Shock Absorption seemed to only work when faced with high levels of brute force impact. Any punch or strike was nullified by the ability, both the action and the reaction seemingly never happening. But the thing was still massive, couldn't be any heavier than a few hundred pounds. If Peter were any larger, he could try to grip the thing and smash its head in, but given the sheer difference in size that was nearly impossible, so he had to do the next best thing. That idea, combined with its mindlessness and Peter's strength, made for a somewhat interesting strategy.

"Ever been to New York? Lemme tellya', Yankees didn't win the World Series for no reason!"

So he plants his foot firmly on the ground, grips the web as tightly as he can, rears his arms back and _swings_. He uses every ounce of strength in his body to rip it from its spot and toss it like a human-shaped wrecking ball. He continued the flow of webbing to let it extend as he swung, trying to create a larger distance between it and himself. With the extremely loud noise of stone being cracked and torn apart by the sheer impact, Nomu crashes right into the side of a mountain that seems to make up a water park-like crisis simulation area. He knows for a fact it's just going to get up in a moment or two, he can already see the rubble shaking. At least, for now, he has something of a strategy.

"C'mon ugly, I know you're still in this." Peter mutters under his breath, readying himself for what's to come.

The Nomu launches itself from the rubble at intense speeds, nearly flying through the air in a way that reminded him of All Might. He couldn't keep letting himself be a target, so like a person with a death wish, he fired a webline up to the roof of the USJ, hoisting himself into the air with the plan of meeting it in the Nomu's arms were above its head, ready to deliver a powerful sledgehammer onto the boy's head and turn him into a human pizza. However, for as fast and powerful as the Nomu was, Peter was faster and far more agile. Whether or not that would help him win was debatable, but help him survive? It has been so far at least.

He fires another line of webbing, right at its chest, pulling himself over with the first one he'd fired and swinging out of the trajectory of the blow. He may not be able to match it in brute force, but he most certainly could outsmart it.

As soon as the Nomu drops, it's suddenly suspended mid-air by Peter's webbing. Much more like a wrecking ball this time, Peter uses his strength to swing it once more from where he himself was kept hanging well above ground level, using the motion to propel the Nomu and himself in the complete opposite direction this time, now right into another mountainous structure.

" _Alright, plan so far: keep swinging it around. Can't really hit it, could wear it down if I keep ramming it into things."_ He dropped down right at the tip of one of the many large rocks that made up the simulation area, seemingly mimicking some kind of rockslide disaster. He looks into the deep pit filled with pebbles and stones that the Nomu left when it impacted the ground, noticing them shake just like they did once before. He counts just how long it takes for it to expose itself and be ready for battle after being (he assumed) momentarily stunned.

"Right up here big boy. What, not used to taking a little punishme—d'oh!" His mostly pointless quip is stopped short when he has to get out of the way of the Nomu flinging its own body at him, sliding down the mountainside as the top of it is ripped off and turning into flying rubble. "C'mon, stay down already!" He fires a webline at its back as it flies through the air, pulling on it with all his strength and stopping the creature's ascent. The web goes taut, signaling the teen to swing his arms down and send the Nomu crashing right into the stone floor of the USJ. The impact was enough to cave in the ground and form a larger crater than before.

" _Thing is, it's way too resilient. Even without the shock absorption I'd have had a hard time trying to hurt it, and all it's doing is throwing itself at me."_ The Nomu rips itself from the body-shaped indentation it made, slowly and eerily standing on its own two legs. The monster looks up at the costumed teen. Bloodshot, unblinking eyes stared hungrily at its prey, before letting out a horrible shriek that echoed throughout the dome-shaped chamber that was the USJ. " _Is wearing it down even possible? Does the thing even feel pain? Fatigue?"_ He notices it brace itself, bend its knees slightly to perform of a great leap. " _Can't do much else but guess."_

The creature leaps at him again, it's muscles rippling at the power it placed in each movement. Peter had to guess it was just mindless enough to where it wouldn't learn from its consistent mistakes, so once more, he fired a line of tough webbing.

Time slows down as he watches the Nomu raise its hand moments before the web can reach it, now gripping it firmly between its fingers.

" _Ah 'course."_

Before he could let the flow of webbing be cut off, he's pulled into the sky by the webline, tugging at the mechanisms of his web shooter. The pull has a great amount of force behind it, enough to nearly rip his arm right out of his socket. Instead, he yells in pain at his newly dislocated right shoulder, and before he could recover from said pain, he's already at eye level with the thing. He tries to raise his left arm and brace for whatever oncoming impact that came.

Instead, he was grabbed, held aloft like Mjolnir itself mid-air by his waist, unable to free himself. Peter would later recall that moment, as he was being dragged through the air, going down like a crashing plane and being held in the meaty hands of the Nomu. He'd realize that, while it was certainly terrible, it wasn't nearly as terrible as the impact that came immediately after.

 **BOOM.**

It certainly would not.

Upon landing the Nomu had apparently dropped him, or thrown him like a fastball. Either way, it hurt, a lot. He could barely get a grip on his surroundings, but he knew that it had certainly gotten a lot darker than it was on the outside. As soon as the colorful shapes that made up the world took form, he looked up and saw what looked like a dilapidated city around him. THe buildings were in disrepair, falling apart and cracking in the worst of places, roads and signs bent and broken in the worst of ways. Like a raging earthquake had torn through the streets of whatever unfortunate place this used to be, wiping out the entire population in a ruthless manner.

"Man, how's a school even get so much funding?" He mutters to himself, walking down the cracked road quietly and carefully. His Spider-Sense wasn't warning him of any nearby danger, but he couldn't rest for too long. Not while other students were still being hunted by the villains that attacked. He tries to raise his arm to fire a webline, flinching and hearing a quiet *pop* coming from under his heavy costume. "D-Damnit… Where did that thing even go?" He uses his left arm to hold his right, slowing down his pace slightly. "Gotta find it. Make sure it-nng...Doesn't hurt anyone else." His vision is still somewhat fuzzy and his balance isn't as controlled as it usually is, but he's using every ounce of willpower to force himself into continued consciousness. There was a part of him not too deep down, currently concealed by the afterglow of adrenaline and constant worry, that was more agitated about this situation than anything else. Not only did he have to deal with being sent to another dimension, but he still can't escape constant life or death situations?

"Alright, I know it can learn things. Can't just do the same thing over and over and expect it to work…" He uses his left arm to fire a web instead, hoisting himself into the air and landing on the side of a building, crawling up and trying to get a good vantage point. "Don't even think I can hurt it. Doesn't react to any kind of impact, absorbs anything I throw at it, and Hell, it's stronger than me. Nearly as fast too." Once he reaches the top of the nearly broken down skyscraper, he pulls himself up and surveys the roof, devoid of anything distinguishable with the exception of the standard cell and water tower, both of which looked incredibly flimsy and plastic. An idea came to mind, not a particularly good one though.

* * *

Eraser Head has had some pretty bad days. This one was up there, for sure.

His arm was broken, though still salvageable. He's pretty certain he suffered a concussion after that large black creature punched him square in the head. In the time he was floating between consciousness and unconsciousness, he managed to hear that the creatures actual quirk was Shock Absorption, which made it essentially impossible to hurt if your name wasn't All Might. Not only that, but the villains had been put to contain him as well as hunt down any students they could find still in the stadium, leaving Parker to fight the invincible, All Might-level strength monster that had just thrown the poor boy into a ruined city, and was likely coming for him next. This left him nearly surrounded, though having handled most all of the grunts once he was able to get back on his feet. On top of all that, three of his students were acting as bystanders at the moment, hidden in a lake and watching the action and hyper-violence unfold, seemingly unable to move. Maybe it was the concussion or the unending rush of adrenaline that was keeping him moving at the moment, but he really wished they'd take a page out of Parker's book and run to his aid.

"You know Eraser Head, I figured you'd be down by now! You sure can take a hit!" Shigaraki said in his same quiet condescending tone he never seemed to stop using, attempting to grab onto the teacher's useless arm. "Nomu was specifically designed to combat All Might you know. Your student doesn't stand a chance."

"My student's going to prove you wrong." Aizawa responds cooly, using his one good arm to punch the younger man square in the hand mask. In truth, he doesn't quite believe that the boy will be able to survive against Nomu, but he couldn't let himself stop fighting just for that. Not while other students' lives were on the line.

The two are a flurry of exchanged attacks, Aizawa going in for kicks and swift uppercuts, trying to keep a steady gap between them. He's unable to really defend himself due to the state of his arm, nor is he able to effectively utilize his scarf with an already occupied hand. The blood oozing from his forehead wasn't helping any either, nor was the sheer exhaustion that made his movements more sluggish and imprecise. Shigaraki was slowly getting the upper hand, despite being unable to land a proper attack on the teacher. He didn't really need to, or attempt to, because all he had to do was grab him. Just once.

"You know Eraser Head, between that hit you took and all the pain you must be feeling, I imagine it's hard to keep your eyes wide open, huh?" The pale man nimbly dodges a roundhouse kick, closely noticing the way the teacher takes millimeter-length hops away as he spins. "It's why you're avoiding me, right? Cause if you get too close, you figure what'll happen."

There's a moment, a single solitary moment when Eraser Head goes in for a blow with his functioning arm, when he measures the distance he would need to follow up with a kick, using his arm as a measuring stick. Shigaraki can notice it, albeit slightly.

"You really…" Then, in the very moment in which the hero is performing his aforementioned calculations, he feels a calloused hand latch onto his wrist, "shouldn't push yourself so much!" The teacher's solid black shirt began to fall apart, and soon it reached skin. The layers greyed and cracked and fell apart within mere moments, revealing the sinew and muscle fiber underneath. This caused the teacher to scream out in pain, something uncharacteristic of him to ever do so, but given how he was doing physically, it was simply becoming too much.

"For as cool as you were, you just weren't enough, were you? First you, then… All Might…"

"Let go of him!" The two men heard in the distance. In a mere moment, a boy with a head of hair like a piece of broccoli and a freckled face that looked very, very angry appeared out of thin air. His legs swung limply behind him, likely broken if the teacher had to guess, and the lake he had leapt out of was transformed into a wave pool by the sheer force of the leap. Midoriya had finally made his appearance, showing off the awesome might of his quirk and reeling his fist back to very likely completely eviscerate Shigaraki should the blow land. To any bystanders, it seemingly does. The force of it is enough to cause a great, familiar win to fill the area and blow away dust and rubble left behind. Mineta and Asui, floating some distance away from where they were due to the push back of their classmates initial launch, could only see a cloud of smoke form once it lands. The smoke clears, and above the fallen form of Midoriya stood the horrifically tall Nomu, looking down at the horrified student. The wind and pressure caused by the blow landing had managed to toss Aizawa and Shigaraki far away. Far enough to where the teacher could do nothing to stop what came next. The Nomu reaches down, hand primed to latch onto the terrified face of the student who dared to attack its master. Midoriya couldn't even stand up and run, nor could he crawl away fast enough with his two functioning arms to avoid the danger.

Asui leaps from the water, tongue lashing and trying to grab her classmate before it's too late.

Eraser Head runs, trying to reach the boy no matter how futile it was. Out of habit or instinct, he activates his quirk on the creature, hoping it could do something to save the day. _Anything_.

Shigaraki only stands there, where he'd landed after the blow hit his mutated pet, and smiles under his face-hand. Because today was the best. Day. Ever.

"You order a pair of shoes?"

 **CRACK!**

Two red boots connect with the Nomu's skull, knocking it down and making it tear against flooring due to the force of it. The noise it made was disgusting in its own way, what with all the flesh being torn apart because of the utter force that landed on it seemingly out of nowhere. Once its body is sent a good twelve yards away, pavement being ripped apart as it did so, none other than Spider-Man had landed where the creature once stood.

"Holy cow that worked!"

"Parker?!"

"He's still standing?"

Peter lands where the Nomu once stood, helmet having long since been removed and in its place, his original mask. Most of the armor that he had had been shed, making his body look somewhat uneven. With a larger and bulkier chest piece that remained while his arms and legs are comparatively small, now including his head. Asui's tongue latches onto the still shocked Midoriya's arm, pulling him across the pavement and to a safe distance by the water. Eraser Head stops in his tracks, admiring the sight before him. The Nomu was down and seemingly out for the count, and Shigaraki had gone completely still. Peter turns to his teacher, the eyes of his mask widening in surprise when he notices that the man was thankfully alive. To say he was well was another story. The arm that Shigaraki had been rotting away was hanging by loose threads of muscle and somewhat visible bone, a portion of it still somewhat decayed due to the villains quirk. Despite the amount of pain he must have been experiencing, he still looked on with a weak smile.

"You came in just... in time…" The man says, his eyes shutting as his the calm sets in and his body stops forcing him to stay awake. As he's falling, Peter rushes over, though unable to catch him.

"Aw man don't actually be dead this time!" The boy kneels down by his teacher, any worries of the creature getting up having completely dissipated. The man is still breathing, though blood was still hemorrhaging from the wound in his forehead. He lifts the body up and carries him over his shoulder, looking somewhat comical considering the difference in size between student and teacher, then running as quickly as possible over to where Asui was tending to Midoriya, all the while staying alert of whatever Shigaraki may have been planning.

"Thanks for stepping in, if you didn't, Midoriya here would've been toast _ribbit_." She drops the boy with broken legs as softly as she can, with him seemingly having a panic attack, adrenaline still coursing through his veins and keeping him conscious, somewhat less aware of the intense pain he should've been feeling.

"I—uh. Did good? We should go. Go to friends. Right? Before, uh, bad guy. Right." Peter says carefully, enough to where he can form a coherent sentence. If his classmates were at all amused by his lack of language skills they didn't show it, their faces still painted with worry. The world is calm for the moment, with the group stood as one by the water and Shigaraki quietly standing by where Nomu had landed after being hit, waiting for _something_.

"We should get Aizawa-Sensei and Midoriya here to safety, though I'm not so sure about that guy over there…" She gives the pale villain a worried glance.

"Oh man, is Aizawa-Sensei okay?!" Mineta cries in terror as he climbs his way out of the lake to where his allies were gathering. Asui gives the lecherous student a silent nod in response, causing him to sigh in relief and turn to his other classmate. "Also, how the heck did you fly in here?"

"Shot myself." Peter sputters out, trying his best to find the right words. It was the best way to describe the tactic he used with what little Japanese he knew. He loaded up nearly all of his webbing into creating a slingshot that was a lot less sloppy than his usual launching tactics, and would propel him with just enough force. In truth, it wasn't the most necessary tactic, but it did allow him to get the drop on the villains. He also felt incredibly lucky that he did so just as Aizawa was deactivating the Shock Absorption as well. It seemed like everything was looking up for the heroes.

"We-Nng!-have to get to the others. I-If that thing stays down-" Midoriya was stopped as Peter's Spider-Sense went off for the umpteenth time that day.

"Oh what now?!" Peter yells in frustrated English, cutting off Midoriya and turning away from his compatriots and looking where Spider-Sense was guiding him, and what he saw made him afraid. Incredibly afraid. The Nomu moved. Even after the hit it took it was still able to move. One of its herculean arms was pushing against the ground, lifting up its body and revealing its somewhat mangled face.

"Go! Take him, go!" Peter yells in barely intelligible Japanese, making a hard sprint towards the monster while it was still in recovery. He didn't have very much webbing left, but if he can blanket it in a thick enough layer that should buy them some extra time.

He reaches out his left arm and fires, only to be faced with a thick black mist forming at the tip of the webbing once it had gotten just about halfway to its destination. The mist formed and expanded, spready about until it began to form a barrier of sorts. The webbing had gone through the mist, and didn't come out the other side.

"Oi, Kurogiri. You killed Thirteen yet?"

"I incapacitated the hero. However, I...failed. I allowed one of the students to escape." Kurogiri says as the initial portal shuts, cutting the webbing. The mist reforms next to Shigaraki, taking on the vague visage of a human being and revealing two glowing lines that were meant to be his eyes. The leader of the villains made a strange gagging noise, something almost akin to animalistic growling, looking at both of his hands.

"You...if you weren't our escape, I'd turn you into a pile of dust. How could you be so stupid as to let our plans fall apart now!?"

"There's no need to fret, Shigaraki. We still have Nomu, and if we're able to escape before any other heroes arrive we'll be out of danger."

"Won't let you!" Peter yells, sprinting at the villains yet again. Before he even has a chance to reach them, however, he's interrupted by the injured-looking Nomu, whose beak-like face was bent in an unsightly way. The creature came upon him too fast for him to avoid, but just slow enough for him to react to, allowing him to catch the two large fists that were sent down towards him in an attempt to turn him into a fleshy pancake. " _Damnit! Pinned, can't see anything past this thing's chest. Froggy's got to get out of here before-"_ His thoughts are interrupted when he feels the pressure increase. His feet dig slightly into the ground and his strength was dwindling by the second. Looking up and seeing as the Nomu's face begins to bend back to its previous shape, the beak straightening and any teeth that'd been knocked out or loosened growing back into place. Both of Peters arms were too occupied in holding back the large arms for him to try anything clever or fancy to get himself out of this predicament, and he doubted he had enough webbing to try to make a flashy escape anymore. The situation had gone critical at this point, and with his teacher and strongest available classmate both out for the count, he had no reasonable way of getting out of this. Peter would look back on this moment later and regard it as probably the lowest point of the day. But what came after? Certainly the highest.

 **BOOM!**

In an explosion of wind and dust, the large double-doors were blown off their hinges in an amazing display of strength. The power behind it was extraordinary, the man behind the power was astounding! From out of the smoke stepped the Japan's #1 Hero, a man who inspired hope in many. A man who would stand against all evil, big and small, for the good of all people that walked this fine Earth! From that smoke stepped out-All Might!

And he wasn't smiling.

" **Fear not."** He says, his voice reverberating throughout the USJ as if it was being spoken from the Gjallarhorn. It captivated all who he had come to save of and put fear into the hearts of any that would dare bring harm to his students. " **I…"** The man continues, ripping off his tie, still scowling. " **Am here!"** And with that, any villain that wasn't Shigaraki, Kurogiri, or the Nomu that was still left standing wasn't anymore. In a show of incredible speed, they were all beaten with little more than a single blow as All Might became a large, hard to track blur. If there was ever any doubt in Peter's mind that the man was the top dog in this town, it all disappeared in that instant. He was a beacon of hope in what had turned out to be a terrible situation, and Peter would get on his knees and kiss the man's feet in thanks if he was asked. Now wasn't really the appropriate time to do such a thing, however, because Peter was still pinned under the Nomu's arms.

Before you could say 'great responsibility', All Might was there, placing his arm upon the Nomu's and holding it as tight as he could, frown still held firmly on his face. He used his other arm to give what equated to a light shove to Peter, causing the much smaller boy to stagger a yard and some change away now that he'd been freed from the pin. The Nomu returns the hero's grip, and suddenly it'd become a battle of strength and will, the two hulking beings, man and monster, grappling one another and trying to pin the other down. The Nomu loosens its grip and spreads its arms out, rearing them back as it lets go of the hero before throwing them forward again, attempting to latch onto All Might's head with both hands. With an agility comparable to Peter's own, All Might leans back out of range. As the creature leaves itself open to a counter, All Might leans forward once more, arm held back for a quarter of a second before being thrown forward with enough strength to break through solid steel, though the punch has no effect whatsoever.

"What? No effec-"

"Shock Absorption!" Peter yells out when he remembers the one crucial detail he should've mentioned much earlier. It distracts All Might momentarily, and the Nomu capitalizes on that distraction, delivering a harsh blow to the teacher that is just barely blocked, causing him to scrape across the ground beneath him with his arms crossed, teeth clenched tightly as he's visibly disturbed by the impact.

"Shock absorption, ey?" All Might looks up from behind his defenses, his pupils emitting a soft blue glow. The teacher doesn't move as he observes the creature carefully, trained eyes examining his opponent in a way that told of his many years fighting against villains of equal or greater caliber. At this moment, Peter was watching a real hero at work, and he was amazed. As quickly as he could blink, the two were on each other once more, colliding in a blast of wind and an aura of physical power, like an unstoppable force going head-to-head with an immovable object. The sheer brutality of the Nomu heavily contrasted the skill and precision of All Might, making it difficult for either to truly find a good opening given the difference in fighting style. All the other students could do was watch and hope for the best. For as much as it pained Peter, he was already beyond exhausted and assumed he would only pose a distraction if he dared to step into the battle of two titans that played out before him. The same, however, did not go for the villains.

"Thanks for the info lad! I appreciate it!" All Might sidesteps the Nomu, shifting his body around it and wrapping his large arms around its torso, holding it tightly. Peter noticed he was likely thinking the same thing he was: if he wasn't going to be able to hit it on his own, trying to use the terrain and natural forces to wear it down was the next best option, only All Might had the size and strength to support that strategy a lot more effectively. With a heavy grunt, All Might lifted the Nomu up off its feet and leaned down, attempting to suplex the creature with the intention of damaging the exposed flesh on the top of its head. The power behind it was surprising, enough to uproar all the rubble and dust that'd been formed in their scuffle and send it dozens of feet into the air.

"Woah! All that just from a bodyslam!?" Mineta yells in awe, feebly dragging around the prone body of Aizawa while the surprisingly strong Asui carried the broken Midoriya, who was still conscious and watching over the battle despite his broken legs and shattered fingers. The green haired boy of the bunch seemed lost in thought, as if contemplating the sheer magnitude of the fight. Peter on the other hand watched on from not too far away, just incase he was needed. When the smoke cleared, they were greeted with a terrible sight. The Nomu was now clutching to All Might's body from under him, how you ask? Kurogiri had intercepted the two just in time to form a portal at the point of Nomu's impact, and right under All Might's back. Like a sick game of twister, the two giants were grabbing onto one another, and one was clearly doing more damage. A red stain began to form on All Might's white button-up shirt. Peter ran at top-speed, unsure of how he'd handle this. Can portals feel pain or be punched? He could pry off the Nomu's fingers, but he wasn't-

"Sonuva!" He yelled, stopping just short of falling right into another portal that formed before him. Kurogiri was preventing him to progressing forward, and even if he attempted to go around or above, the mist would only follow. Once more, there was another hopeless situation that would Peter why he was thankful to be in a school where everyone had super powers.

"Parker, move!"

Peter was forced to move far enough out of the way as a powerful wind hits the mist dead-on, causing it to mostly dissipate into the air, staggering Kurogiri. He looks back for a fraction of a second, seeing Deku, still held onto by Asui, with both his arms out, one finger broken and mangled after having performed a superpowered flick. An audible grunt comes from the mist, and Peter takes that as an opportunity. His approach continued with speed and desperation, and before he reached his destination he was once again greeted with a surprising development, though not a bad one this time. The ground around the hero and villain began to frost over, and the Nomu's entire right side was frozen over in the same way Peter's sleeves had been just a few days before. He didn't even have to ask what this was, he knew full well, and he'd capitalize on it. With every ounce of force he could put into it, he delivered a steady roundhouse kick to its right arm, completely freeing All Might of its grip from one end and shattering it to small, insignificant pieces. All that is left of its arm is a fleshy stump, strands of flesh and sinew hanging limply off the sides. Behind him, he noticed Kirishima had attempted to deliver a blow to Shigaraki, one that was dodged with total ease, the second blow from Bakugo, who descended from the sky like a meteor, was not. Shigaraki was smacked across the face with an explosive palm, sending him a yard or so back. He was obviously in pain, but attempted as best he could to show no outward signs of it to the heroes. Instantly after that, All Might ripped himself away from the Nomu's left hand and created distance between them, looking upon his students' handiwork, his usual smile casting itself upon his face.

"I'm surprised you thought that scum like you…" Todoroki started, shifting his footing slightly as he redirects his ice to where Kurogiri was struggling to stand once more, freezing the iron plates that wrapped around its physical form, "could ever kill All Might, you were dead wrong."

For a joyous moment, the heroes stand triumphant over their enemies. All Might is freed, the three remaining threats were incapacitated, and more back-up was well on the way. For Peter, the situation had done a complete one-eighty in the space of just over eighty seconds, and he couldn't be more glad about it. Until he remembered…

"It can heal!" The Parker boy yells, his posture straightening as he readies himself for the Nomu to get a move on once more. Shigaraki's eye widens and he scrambles to pump out orders for a moment, as he'd hoped that the Regeneration quirk could be utilized as a surprise tactic. However, he's much too busy trying to stand straight after he was hit upside the head with a firework. He had to act quickly and as precisely as he could, or else everything would fall apart. All Might was already planning to handle what was left of the Nomu, there was no time! He had to activate it, or it would be too late!

"Nomu! Cellar door!" Shigaraki spurts out a command in broken English before he can be stopped, his voice panicked and full of malice. The situation had gone critical for the villains this time around, and he showed desperation and a lack of grace Peter hadn't thought possible. But what did that order mean? 'Cellar door?' To Peter it seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place exactly where he'd heard it, or why he'd be hearing it from some whacko from another dimension.

Suddenly, Peter's Spider-Sense went, stronger than it was anytime before. It roared in his head to run, far and as fast as he could. For a singular moment, he was frozen in abject horror, the tingling in his head reminding him heavily of that lonely night in Bryant Park. The group turns to the Nomu that had just begun to move, its muscles shaking while it pried itself from out of the portal. As it did, it was quickly losing other body parts due to the ice surrounding it, eviscerating almost its entire right side. Standing on its own remaining leg and letting out a choked screech that struck fear into the hearts of the heroes, its arm began to quickly reform, fresh muscle and new tissue shooting out of what was left of its right side, from its arm down to its leg. The newly formed flesh shot out and quickly became what resembled functioning body parts, much to the dismay of the heroes present. However, it did not end there, as the Nomu began to convulse and break into a state that resembled a seizure, its head shaking and torso rising and falling quickly. The screeching began to sound more like growling, as if it was a large dog choking on a bone, and its eyes had become more red and bloodshot. It grew slowly, the skin tearing and being stretched taut as its muscles pulsated with a newfound power, though it only continued to seizure. A viscous green liquid dribbled from the side of its mouth, dripping onto the ground in front of it and sliding down its bare chest. It now entirely dwarfed All Might in size, standing at nearly nine feet tall and with muscles to boot, it could support its own weight enough to stand on its own two legs with no need for additional support, and its already feral teeth became more jagged and pronounced. Just when they thought it was over, the skin on both of its elbows was ripped away instantly as strange black bony protrusions jutted out of them, razor sharp at the tip.

It was incredibly still, horrifically so. Not a muscle was moved after that painful looking outburst. All present were speechless, including Shigaraki himself, as if he'd never seen the creature undergo such a transformation. The Nomu's eyes move first, looking down at its prey, and then its face, a twisted expression that resembled a smile directed right at All Might. Shigaraki composed himself, and began.

"This...This is you, All Might!" He stands, his hands spread wide at his sides, like a preacher delivering a sermon. "You're nothing but a tool for violence meant to propagate violence! Your 'justice', your categorization of what makes a villain a villain and a hero a hero! You thrive on this-it fuels you. Violence on violence on more violence, and for what, the name of saving others? Lies! All just your excuses!" He took a confident step forward, eyes growing more wild by the second. "So it ends now, All Might. Nomu, destroy the Symbol of Peace!" The villain concluded theatrically.

All Might was ready to take the hit, already in a defensive position to face the full brunt of this new threat. The students were at a safe distance, but his plan was to find an opening in which he would tell them to run and get to a safe distance. More than likely, he could be able to hold off the creature until backup arrived, and he didn't have to worry about Shigaraki or Kurogiri interfering during the brawl. Despite the wound on his side and the exhaustion of the day wearing on him, he was the Symbol of Peace, and would uphold that title even in the bleakest of situations. That was the plan.

Plans rarely ever work out, do they?

 **To Be Continued**

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Bit shorter than I would've liked, took longer to make too, but I've been a bit busy lately. Next part should be out sooner than later. Been having trouble trying to write this whole section. I plan to give it a good twist/change of canon, maybe.**

 **Any feedback or advice is most appreciated as usual, and as always, see you later.**


	9. Chapter 9

**9 - Peter Parker: Origin**

 **Wow, this was uh...pretty late, wunnit?**

 **Also, worked on formatting a bit since it's been a bit inconsistent. I'll do better as I go along. Same goes for my subpar writing.**

 **I don't own anything really. Do I really have to put that on every chapter? I feel like it's kind of obvious Spider-Man, My Hero Academia and all related properties don't belong to me.**

* * *

 **Part 1 - The Drama We Call Life**

 _The story so far?_

 _You know the story so far._

Spider-Sense. Arguably the most consistently useful tool at his disposal, all things considered, but definitely the most stressful. Which was kind of the point, now that Peter thought about it.

He was just staring at the Nomu. They all were, even the villains that controlled him could only gawk at the creature that stood before them. The _thing_ it became. The one word that came to mind when it looked back: _helpless_.

Spider-Sense could be very useful, but it was at its worst when the physical effects set in. The instincts of the animal he represented by the symbol on his chest and the webs he spun were kicking him in the keister and yelling at him to get going. The latent Spider-Brain screaming for a quick escape, but his Human-Brain wasn't doing so well either, as every fear-focused impulse built after millenia of cave-dwelling and rock smashing was hitting him all at once.

The way it's eyes seemed so much more lively than before, tracing down the bodies of every hero that stood before it, like a hungry animal studying prey. Behind those eyes something was alive and _thinking_ , and that scared Peter beyond all else.

And it just stood there. Menacingly.

All Might could sense the fear permeating from each of his students, smell it even. There's a very slight, minuscule amount of guilt that creeps it's way into the back of his mind as he's reminded that he was supposed to be on duty before anyone else. If he hadn't been too busy resting, Aizawa and Thirteen wouldn't have been hurt, and the situation wouldn't have escalated to such a horrible point. Despite this, he doesn't let himself falter, even for a moment. In, with clenched fists held menacingly in a defensive position, he decides to make up for it.

"Kids, stand back! I can take it from here-" All Might starts to yell, as heroic as a man in this predicament could be, but was cut short by the screech from the Nomu. It'd lashed out, arms looking read to grab and tear somethings limbs clean off, and as it's large beak flew open, a sprinkle of viscous green fluid stained the concrete at its feet. The most immediately noticeable thing: the sound of it's screech has changed dramatically. Before, it was a simple, animalistic scream. Nothing too different from a stock sound effect in a horror film.

But now? It was louder, pained almost. A strangled scream of something that wasn't supposed to live. They could almost feel the sound against their faces.

It charged again with a speed that no creature that size should have, whatever loose bits of rubble were blown away by the incredible force exerted by each step. It's moments like these where time slows down for Peter, giving him time to think of a solution, maybe make some grand escape and a quick come back not so long later. Unfortunately, that stopped being an option as soon as he decided to use all of his webs for a slingshot of all things.

The two titans clash, Nomu's gargantuan fist matching the power of All Might's own. He hadn't even seen the teacher reel in for the punch before countering the monster's assault.

The real shock is the aftermath. Everyone in the surrounding area is swept off their feet almost immediately as the nearly-visible shockwave ripped through the air. Kurogiri's own body was destabilizing and being ripped and pulled by the wind, while Shigaraki is thrown right into the air, unable to ily ground himself, flying off into a distant location. The same occurs for the students, with little ability to resist on their part.

Bakugo, Kirishima, Peter, and Todoroki are flung through the air, flailing in random directions and entirely unable to stop themselves as the force of the blast did not waver in its magnitude. Wherever they landed, they could only rely on their wits to assist them.

Of course, Peter was all about wit, it came with the territory. This time though, he's got nothing.

It's actually terrifying for a brief moment, falling with absolutely no control of where he was going to land, or how. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly used to, but he'd been through it more than once by now. But he always found a way to land safely. The stray flag pole here, the conveniently placed pillow truck there, but that was in New York City. And he wasn't in New York City, so for now, his best plan was 'try not to land on your head', which in and of itself wasn't a bad idea, just not really the most ideal.

 **WHAM!**

"Ow."

He'd landed just on the outskirts of the Ruins Zone, where he had been skirmishing with the Nomu earlier. Among the rubble that used to be the dividing wall, he was laid back-down on a large, barely intact slab of stone. Slowly, he leans up, propping up on his elbows and taking whatever little time he had to think and to breathe. The latter was a lot more difficult given the wind that was quite literally blown out of him.

"I— _hnng—_...I miss my villains." He ekes out the first thing he can think of, voice shaky and uneven. Slowly, he rests one palm on the stone, flipping over and pushing himself up on both knees. "They were bad, sure, but not _this_. At least I could tickle their funny bones long enough to slug'em in the face." He carefully stands up on his own two feet, fists clenched, shaking as he felt an air of cold overtake him. Strange, he didn't think it could get windy in a place with no windows. "Can't talk this one into submission. Can't hurt it. But I'll figure _something_ out. I always do. I always..."

 _Boy meets girl. Girl ignores boy. Boy meets another girl. She ignores boy too._

 _Everyone ignores boy._

 _Boy gets the message. Boy goes home._

 _Nobody_ _ **notices**_ _._

How could he blame anyone for not caring? He never stood out, did anything worth mentioning. He was always just smart. Smart and gullible and kind, the easiest target in the world.

He can feel it all flooding back into him, threatening to spill over, out of the carefully constructed fortress of his mind. Every cutting insult and painful jab, both aimed wherever it would hurt most. Days of being dragged out into the spotlight and being shown it wasn't where he belonged. They'd almost surgically poke and prod at him with every opportunity, finding each weakness and insecurity they could exploit and use to twist their words so he'd never know if they were.

They said so very many things, too. He was too short, skinny, ugly, slow, weak, quiet. He was everything wrong, and nothing right. One flaw in an otherwise perfect world, nothing but a nuisance. He clung on to the people around him in a vain attempt to assimilate without trying to imitate, because he truly believed that if he tried to be himself, whoever that was, that there was someone that would accept him. But Mary Jane didn't want him. Harry didn't want him. _He_ didn't want him _._

 _Boy gets bitten by radioactive spider. Boy freaks out._

 _Boy gets excited. Boy calms down. Boy freaks out again._

 _Boy figures out how to use his newfound abilities to make money._

Peter Parker was nota man. He was a boy playing a hero in a pathetic teenaged fantasy, believing he could find value in himself through it somehow. This wasn't fighting Crusher Hogan, and this wasn't starring on late night television, prancing about like a circus show just to get a few cheers out of a crowd, because it made him feel like he was finally worth something. For once in his life, in those moments that he thought would last forever, when his vision was filled with flashing lights and smiles, the air didn't feel so thick. For once, Peter Parker felt real.

But at the end of the day, people weren't cheering for Peter, they were cheering for Spider-Man. He couldn't even have _that_ to himself.

It made him angry, bitter and filled with a venomous hatred for a world that he thought owed him for all he'd been through. He wanted to be thanked for his sacrifice, years of torment and self-loathing that all culminated into the moment that spider sunk its fangs into his hand. He thought that the least he could do was not hurt anyone he wanted to, no matter how strong that desire was.

Peter Parker just wanted to hurt the world for what it did to him.

 _Boy slips up. Somebody dies._

But Spider-Man was something special. Something real. Something that had a tangible and positive effect on the world, unlike everything else about the person behind the mask. It wasn't the quips, or the power, or the overwhelming determination to do good that filled him whenever he looked into the white-out lenses of his poorly sewn red mask, but it was the idea. The idea that someone as small and insignificant as he was could create something that made the world marvel. That's why he still put it on. Why he still kept _trying_.

But inevitably, Peter Parker was nothing. He was born as nothing, lived as nothing, and died as nothing. It was the inconsolable truth of his existence.

But none of that mattered, because right now Spider-Man had a job to do.

 _Boy wonders if he'll ever find his feet again._

* * *

 **Part 2 - I Must Be Worthy Of That Strength**

 _Boy dies this time._

 _Boy wakes up somewhere else._

 _Boy doesn't know anything anymore._

It'd taken Spider-Man all of about seven minutes after his landing to gather his thoughts, made especially difficult by the extreme pain that he was experiencing in his arm and legs, and he imagined that being flung hundreds of feet didn't help much at all with that either.

Navigating the Ruins Zone, hiding from all the chaos as he did, he'd found little else but a stray piece of rebar he had the impulse to pick up. All the while continuing an ultimately unsuccessful search for the other students amongst all the artificial wreckage. Once he found it was devoid of any life besides him and whatever bugs were crawling from the cracks in the ground with the earth shaking beneath them, he'd made his way out to search elsewhere.

Now, the boy watched from the remains of the Mountain Zone (and now renamed Pebble Zone) as the battle raged on, the Nomu now having a noticeable upper hand where the most All Might could do was use his superior tactics to avoid it. Whatever Shigaraki had juiced it up with made a staggering difference in its strength and speed, and the teacher could no longer match it blow for blow as well as he hoped to before.

The point was, the situation had gone completely FUBAR, and no amount of luck or headstrong determination would get them out of this. At least, it didn't seem like it could so far. This was where Spider-Man came in, because it was under extreme pressure that he worked best, or at least that's what he told himself when things were spiralling out of control.

If only he could concentrate, given the constant sounds of a burly man and burly monster punching each other. It was like a thousand drums, sounding off one by one in a chaotic rhythm. Among all that, the Web Head notices that the two other villains were nowhere to be seen, and whether they managed an escape or were simply hiding among the chaos, he didn't know. that rent the world asunder around them.

On the other end of the stadium, his keen eyes could see Todoroki prying his way out of water from the Flood Zone, not too far away from where the battle was happening. Which was a very good thing, because knowing he wasn't the only one suffering made, which made Peter feel a lot better, because they were going to need all hands on deck for this one, and if he were a betting man he'd be guessing that Bakugo and Kirishima were in similar conditions elsewhere.

Spider-Man squints, feeling an idea creeping out from the back of his mind. All Might had spent all this time punching it, very hard mind you, but that was still all he was doing. With its increased power and size, punching it even harder no longer seemed like a viable option anymore. It's tough skin and shock absorption made it near impossible to cause any damage, and its speed and strength made getting up close a worse idea that putting your hand in a boiling pot.

 **THOOM! WHAM! POW!**

Which honestly seemed much more enjoyable than what Spider-Man was thinking of doing. Though he lacked any conceivable way to communicate his newly formed plan. The still noticeable language barrier and the fact that he didn't know where half of his cohorts were, and not to mention that their best bet at winning was also in the middle of getting punched in the face, really exacerbated it. Though now he had a plan, and though it wasn't the best plan (and dare he admit, the worst) it was a plan nonetheless. Still, a part of him still wanted to run, hide away where no one could see him, but the other part of him was telling him to leap right into it, without a single care for his own safety because there was just nothing left to lose.

But even if he did have something to lose, he'd probably make the same decision, because that's what Spider-Man did.

He ran, clearing the distance in mere seconds, moving as fast as his burning legs could take him. To any that could see him, he appeared as a stunningly quick red and blue blur, moving quickly behind the Nomu, who was locked in a fierce grapple with the teacher.

Spider-Man raises the thin steel bar, gripping it as tightly as he could, and _thrusts_. Right into the Nomu's exposed back. Every ounce of proportionate spider-strength he has left is tossed into this single attack, jamming it deep enough and quickly enough for Peter's hands to touch its skin. It's barely able to let out a scream when it convulses in pain, as All Might takes that opportunity to grapple its arm and perform a spinning toss, launching the creature far enough away to buy him time. Just enough time to chastise the life out of one of his students.

"Young Parker, while I appreciate the assistance, you need to leave _immediately_ , along with the other—"

"Lookout!"

With Spider-Man's yell came a near-immediate attack by the Nomu, one that would've spelled pain had All Might not reacted quick enough. It came charging at them at insane speeds, rending the ground asunder and puffing it's chest out like an animal. All Might retaliated, raising his palms and keeping the beast at arm's length, pressing against its chest while its arms lashed out toward him. It wasn't an ideal block, but it was enough to buy the student a moment to get away.

The Nomu's left fist is brought up, ready to crash down on the hero's shoulder with intense force, and the man squints as he prepares to work through the pain of the injury and counter with whatever he could.

But the pain never came. All Might felt the slight pressure of two feet against his right shoulder and elbow, and realized that the student he was trying to defend had jumped to _his_ defense. The younger, far smaller man was posed like Atlas lifting the sky, both arms held above his head and holding back the Nomu's large, veiny fist.

"L-Listen to me! Can't speak. Need you—HRK!" Spider-Man struggled to articulate himself in Japanese as the pressure the Nomu applied increased, and his Spider-Sense hummed a warning signal as the creature's other arm was poised to bat him away like the arachnid he represented.

All Might saw this, and using his left arm caught the Nomu's right, the resulting loss of stability on both sides of the creature's body causing his boots to slide back against the ground. He didn't know how much longer this game of Say Uncle would go on, but he hoped long enough for him to think of a plan to get Parker to safety.

"I plan!"

All Might huffed out an uncharacteristically frustrated breath. He quickly switches to English, briefly remembering all of his years of study in America. "In English, boy! And fast, I'm not sure how long I can hold this!"

"Now you're speaking my language." _'Cool it with the jokes. No time to make funny.'_ "J-Jokes aside here's the plan: we need to stab it!" Spider-Man yelled out in his preferred language, adjusting his hold on the Nomu's arm so as to loosen his chest ever so slightly. He could feel it keep on piling on strength, and knew he needed to be quick. "Specifically, pin it down, or puncture a lung and cut off its oxygen supply! You need to get to the others, clear them out and then grab something _sharp_ and-"

"You mean _you_ need to get to the others. By no means will I allow you to fight this creature alone again!"

 _Boy lashes out again. He fights, harder than he's ever fought._

 _Boy doesn't think there's anything left to lose._

" _Just listen to me!_ " The boy yells with an added assertiveness, and for a moment All Might wonders if the student knows who he's addressing. "I c-can't communicate with them. I tried to tell you with that little stunt I pulled, but now that I know you can convey the message...well it's a better plan than you punching it harder until help gets here!"

For a moment, there's a quiet between teacher and student, as they realize they're forced into such dire straits, working together with so little knowledge of one another. All Might can't help but still see Parker as someone he needed to protect, not simply allow him to fight a battle he wasn't ready for, not again. But in spite of this, with the way the boy was speaking…

"Please just— _hrrk_...you're so damn fast. You can get to them in a heartbeat and...I'll be fine. Just, trust me, okay?" Peter sounds almost desperate as he finishes his request, attempting to prop himself up even further and push the Nomu's arm up. The creature only put the pressure on further, and both of our heroes got the clue that they couldn't hold this stalemate very much longer. "Not like it's giving us very much time here."

"Parker...I'll give you the count. Just, be ready to move, and by no means do you try to fight back, understood?" It went against everything he stood for as the Symbol of Peace, and he knew it could very well result in something far worse for him than his own demise, but at this juncture, he had to put every card on the table.

The boy only nods frantically, taking a few deep breaths and readying himself.

"Three…"

The Nomu lets out a low growl, green liquid oozing from its mouth.

"Two…"

Spider-Man adjusts his feet, ready to leap into action just as he always did.

"One!"

All Might lets go.

 _Boy keeps fighting._

The first moments are a horrible mad dash. Limbs flailing about, All Might for once running in the opposite direction of danger, and Spider-Man simply doing his best to avoid every wild attack the Nomu threw. He hadn't touched the ground for several moments, swinging off its arms and torso like monkey bars, letting it fight something it could just barely catch glimpses of. Peter's minuscule size and incredible speed helped in this regard, slipping in and out of its vision like a fly that just kept coming back for another round of 'Can You Swat Me?'

He was significantly less versatile than he could've been if he hadn't run out of web fluid. For now, his quick acrobatics and Spider-Sense were acting as his crutch. He didn't have a clue just how long All Might would take, whether he'd be stuck doing this for the next few minutes or if he'd get hit. With the aching in his bones, his damaged shoulder, and the sheer exhaustion of the past hour or so of his life, it was something of a miracle he was even standing, much more pulling off such complicated maneuvers.

' _Guess it's just all the adrenaline going through me, huh?'_ Peter thinks, landing on the ground in a controlled crouch, ignoring the searing pain that jolts up his arm when he places his hand on the ground for support. _'Gotta appreciate the human body.'_ The world around him begins to dark as the Nomu's fist plummets down, ready to turn him into paste. Rather than simply jump out of the way, Peter adjusts his footing, leaping up towards the coming fist and maneuvering himself so that he was in positing to climb up its forearm, then pivoting off its elbow once the fist made contact. _'And my dwindling sanity.'_

Following the his swift and dazzling show of acrobacy, he began to reconsider his approach, the cogs in his head going faster and faster.

' _Okay, great! I can keep dodging until my legs break. But I'm too vulnerable, if it gets me it's over. Think.'_ The internal monologuing is cut off by another animalistic screech.

"Oh shut up!" Spider-Man yells, agitation evident in his tone. "God you're just the most annoying slab of meat I've ever had to deal with!" It tries to swat him out of the air with its fist again, but Peter simply shifts to the side and places one hand on its wrist, swinging under it and placing himself firmly on its arm, crouched. "Hey buddy, got the time?"

It screams, rearing its head back while Peter's head buzzed, urging him to move. He launches off its arm mere seconds before its forehead slams into its own arm, the exposed brain somehow taking the brunt of such an attack, merely causing a slight indent. The Nomu screams again, this time less in anger and more in pain, clutching its own scalp.

From behind it, Peter yells, "Hey!" And it snaps around, frothing at the mouth, an animal ready to kill. Peter simply squints, the whites of his mask thinning. One could barely make out a smile underneath the red fabric. "Stop hitting yourself."

It doesn't scream this time, merely growls, greenish foam dripping from its maw. It runs one foot across the ground, once, twice, preparing like a bull.

"Alright not-so-gentle-giant." Peter drops into a crouch, eyes remaining squinted. "Toro."

* * *

 **Part 3 - They Will Soon Marvel**

"Freakin' A." Peter says through bated breaths, his situation finally dawning on him as the one-sided fight continued. The Nomu's assault hadn't ended, and there was no sign of All Might for a good few minutes. If he didn't trust the man, he might accuse him of abandoning ship.

The Nomu screams, from dozens of yards away from Peter, having just rammed head-first into a lamp post of sorts. Their bullfighting bit was getting old, very quickly, and Peter didn't know how much more of this he could take.

Not to mention it was a bull that was moving faster than the eye could see. That certainly exacerbated the situation. .

"Hey! Hey you!" Peter snaps up, watching as the Nomu turns around, shaking in rage. "You're so ugly, I'm pretty sure if we dumped your face in a grease fryer it'd fix a few things!" It screams again. "God, how can someone that's been screaming this long only get louder?!"

It's turgid muscles distended as it puffed its chest out, then letting out another mighty roar.

"Yes yes, I get it! Hulk strongest there is, blah blah, just run at me again."

It charged wildly, footprints in the ground forming with every high-speed step it took, the booming of its movement bouncing all of the walls of the stadium. When it's mere feet away, Peter leaps, ready to let it crash into whatever was behind him once again.

But this time, it's different. Peter's raised arms feel a slight tingle, and he looks up, attention away from the Nomu for the first time in what felt like a long time, and all he sees is black.

"Oh God." The other end of the black portal, he couldn't see, but his Spider-Sense did not tell him anything good. His vision went dark as soon as his eyes met the portal, and he was suddenly attacked with a blinding light a mere moment later, and before him was the Nomu again, looming over him like death itself. It's fist was primed and ready to smash into him. He had no way of moving, evading the hit before it could land and turn him into a pancake.

All Peter does is close his eyes and prepare for the pain. Funny, he's sure he could hear the impact happen before he actually felt it.

"MOVE IT SHORTSTACK!"

Strange, that didn't sound like his bones being turned into powder. But it takes him a moment to finally realize—he's being _saved_. He feels a hand grabbing at the fabric of his costume, pulling him out of the fist's trajectory and taking him on a high speed ride through the air. Peter can make out a faint smoke trail as they moved, as if Bakugo was a living rocket and Spider-Man was cargo.

"No fuckin' way!" Bakugo yells at something Peter cannot see, firing a controlled explosion downwards and rocketing Peter and Bakugo into the air. Below, Peter could see the black smoke that is Kurogiri, likely cursing their very existence.

"Oi, shortlegs!" Peter hears, his head snapping up to a disheveled looking Bakugo, giving him a sour look. "All Might told us everything. Plan's for you to grab one of my gauntlets and fire it when he tells ya' to." He brings his other arm, the one that wasn't holding Peter, down and reaches out. "Other one's already used up. Take it, and I'll toss you to where they are!"

All Peter can do is quickly nod and tear the gauntlet off of Bakugo's arm, all of the new information flooding his mind.

"Redhead and I'll take your place, now go ya' midget!" With that, Bakugo uses his surprising upper body strength to haul Peter up by his costume and, with a controlled but powerful explosive boost, launch him him towards the fiery Conflagration Zone. Spider-Man holds the gauntlet tight and screams all throughout his flight,inwardly cursing the fact that this was the second time he was launched today.

The speedy descent is stopped short when Peter feels large arms wrap around him, and looks to see that All Might has saved his life yet again. By catching him like a football.

"Sorry for the lateness of it m'boy! We needed time to prepare!" All Might bellows out in perfect English, controlling his fall and landing in an empty street, surrounded by flames and intense heat. The older man gently puts the young student down, the boy stumbling dumbly when he lands.

"Todoroki my boy, is it ready?" All Might says, turning around as Peter follows suit. Before them is Todoroki, stood next to a gigantic steel beam with both hands placed firmly on top of it. One end was radiating heat, though not glowing red hot, while the other seemed to give off very little, cooled down by Todoroki's icy touch, though still being melted away by the surrounding heat. The kicker, however, was that the beam itself was stored in a ramp of sorts, with Todoroki standing on a platform attached to it. The beam looked ready to go up, like a missile in its launcher. The other student simply nods, wiping away a bead of sweat, and then Peter feels a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to look up towards All Might.

"Put the gauntlet on Parker, and stand on the cool end of that beam. It's time for me to engage the Nomu, and should all go well you'll know exactly when to fire. Young Todoroki can explain the rest." All Might declares with a heroic confidence that couldn't be matched by Captain America. "You've done well my boy, and now it's time to finish this!" With that, he leaps towards the booming sounds of explosions and screaming.

Peter stands dumbfounded, looking towards the other student, who looks back at him with an immensely bored expression.

"Well?"

Peter snaps out of it, quickly nodding and slipping the gauntlet on. It's tight and heavy, and he fingers the pin a bit too eagerly.

* * *

"Thanks for the save man, but I don't think that'll be enough!" Kirishima screams in panic, looking behind them incase they were ambushed by the Nomu's cohorts once again.

"OH YA' THINK?!" Bakugo retorts, frantically emitting explosions with enough force to create a thick cloud of smoke around the pair. The Nomu had set it sights on Kirishima once Bakugo had performed his rescue maneuver, the boy acting as a distraction so it wouldn't immediately engage the fleeing pair. Though the boy's tough skin and physical fitness was enough to let him defend himself for just a few moments, the creature's speed was overwhelming, and it was Bakugo's quick interference and intense light show that saved him a world of pain.

"Crap, can't see through any of this, where did it—" The redhead's babbling is interrupted by a monstrous roar, the villain cutting through the smoke and filling his vision, ready to slam the talon that protruded from its elbow right on top of the poor student.

"ShitFUCK!" Bakugo babbles out curses in a panicked yell, sweeping his arm as fast as his body allowed him to throw an unintentionally powerful explosion Kirishima's way, tossing him out of danger and causing the Nomu's talon to plant itself firmly into the ground. The enraged teen took this opportunity, as it had a minor struggle to tear itself from the hole it made, to temporarily blind it by throwing an explosion right into its face. It made a strangled noise of frustration, and Bakugo was pretty sure he drew blood given the green liquid that sprayed out of it and onto the shirt of his costume, but he couldn't stop to bask in that small victory. He ran in the opposite direction as fast as he possibly could, firing smaller explosions to keep the smoke cloud going.

"Not so fast, explosive little brat!" He hears a familiar voice say, and just as he steps out of the smoke, he sees the black smoke of Kurogiri surrounding the supposed mastermind, Shigaraki. Finally come out of hiding.

"It's unfortunate your Symbol of Peace isn't here to stop what happens next, huh?" The man utters, venom dripping from his voice as he steps toward the student.

A bead of sweat runs downs Bakugo's face, realizing his situation. He knows he's stuck between a rock and an even larger, angrier rock, and has very little way of escape. The growling behind him grows louder, and he realizes the Nomu is merely feet behind him. He realizes that he needs to move, as fast as he could.

But that wouldn't cut it. If he ran, Kurogiri's portals and Nomu's speed would get him. If he tries to go up, the creature would jump right after him, and if he tries to push forward, he wouldn't stand a chance. For any tactic he could pull, they'd have an immediate and fairly simple answer. So he grits his teeth, forcing a pleased smirk in the vain hope of intimidating his foe, and hopes for the best.

"No fear—!"

He's shocked that it actually works.

All Might lands with a mighty crash, the smoke dissipating and revealing that the Nomu was only a step away from Bakugo. Thankfully, however, it's attention was turned towards the hero of the hour. As was the attention of all those present, for that matter.

"Because I...am here!" One could almost hear the orchestra as he heroically puffed his chest out and grinned, standing before the villains. In his mind, however, he realized he needed to be quick. However much time he had in his muscle form, he didn't know, but he hoped it was just enough to end this.

And the battle began.

Almost instantly, the Nomu and All Might were trading blows, this time with greater ferocity and desperation coming from the hero. The wind was enough to cause the onlookers to stumble and fall much like earlier, and their arms became less and less visible as the speed of their blows increased. All Might felt blood run down his chin, and every blow he suffered merely lowered the amount of time he had left. That didn't mean he wasn't getting his licks in, however. Every attack was measured and calculated, sent out with more than one-hundred percent of his power, but he knew it wasn't enough. It's tough body, along with the shock absorption, was taking the brunt of every blow exceptional well. So All Might has to improvise, and with a spectacular show of speed and versatility, dodged a singular blow from the Nomu and whirled around the creature, wrapping his muscular arms around it. It looked as if he was going to suplex it again, but he had something very different in mind.

Before the Nomu could even make a move to escape, the man hopped. But a hop for All Might is far more impressive than a hop for anyone else, so they were launched into the air at impressive speeds. It became a furious mid-air clash, both fighters battling just as ferociously as they did when grounded, now being propelled through the air. It was an intense show of skill and quick adaptability.

For the people below, aspiring heroes and villains alike, it was a sight to behold. The two fighters, exchanging every powerful attack, turning the wind into blades that could slice blades of grass, all while causing the planet to shake like it was the end of the world. One fighting with the desperation and ferocity of an injured lion clinging to its life, and another with the unrelenting force of a wildebeest herd. This was level of power that seemed almost impossible, too big to be real. Too _much_.

Like watching Gods, fighting over Heaven and Earth.

In the midst of it all, All Might catches one of its gigantic fists, wrapping both arms around it and spinning mid-air, as fast as his weakening body allowed him. This was their chance, to finally put an end to this fierce battle. So he keeps spinning, ignoring the aching pain in his chest as it got its final licks in, and _swings_. Throwing it right above the flaming Conflagration Zone, at _just_ the right angle. But it was the timing that worried him. Would Parker miss, only to be launched into certain doom? Would the Nomu get ahold of him, crushing him before All Might could arrive to stop it? He didn't know, but he did know that he trusted the boy, and whether or not he was justified in doing so, he didn't know. But trust could only go so far, after all, so All Might puffed out his chest and screamed:

" **NOW!** " There, that should get his attention.

WIthin the zone itself, Peter pulls the pin, time seeming to slow as the flames and force fired from Bakugo's gauntlet and hit the ground. The beam starts to quickly slide up the ice ramp, the glue that the boy acted as holding it together. The ice shatters when it reaches full power, and the ground beneath it is rent completely asunder. Before he knows it, he's quite literally rocketing into the sky, a trail of fire and flames behind him.

' _Eat your heart out, NASA.'_

It was at this point that Peter was reminded of something, a old myth he'd read once. It told of Heracles, going about his Twelve Labors. Among these tasks, he was given the mission of slaying the Lernaean Hydra, a monster known for its many heads which would heal and multiply, even if they were severed. To resolve this, Heracles enlisted the help of his nephew, Iolaus, to cauterize the wounds so as to prevent it from growing anymore heads after he severed them.

So, as the searing hot steel went right through the Nomu's sternum, bringing along horrific sizzling noise that emanated from the freshly burnt hole, Peter finally figured out where his teacher was going with this.

The red-colored hero leapt off the beam, just before he could be sent spiralling into nowhere along with the creature, and let it go on its merry way. The beam, and the Nomu along with it, went straight through the dome's walls and went even further beyond that, flying off a reasonable distance. Wherever it landed, it would be pinned down and likely prevented from any healing due to the heat and penetration. Much like the Lernaean Hydra, which was finally buried under a heavy rock after its final head was severed.

It was at this point that Peter had to wonder just why there were so many allusions to Greek Mythos in his life. But quite frankly, that was the least of his worries at the moment. Like gravity, which at this point was going to be an even worse enemy than the Nomu.

But that worry fades away rather quickly, when he finds himself yet again in the strong arms of his teacher, still falling quickly towards the Earth below. The man's hold is shaky, uneven, and he nearly drops Peter more than once as they're descending. Finally, they land, the teacher still holding the much smaller boy underneath his arm like a grocery bag.

The other two students are on them immediately, Bakugo smirking and Kirishima giving off a bright and toothy grin. Todorki follows suit, sliding in and leaving a path of ice that made Peter wonder if copyright laws applied across dimensions.

"Holy crap, that was the manliest thing I've ever seen! When All Might and that monster were fighting mid-air and—All Might?"

Kirishima starts and stops babbling before you could say 'Great Caesar's Ghost', watching on with a worried look as a bout of nausea and pain hit the teacher like a tidal wave, causing him to unceremoniously drop Peter and begin to convulse. He bent down on one knee, staring at the stone beneath him and finally realizing that his power had run dry. He was heaving and gasping for air, the impact from each of the Nomu's blows finally taking their full effect as the adrenaline faded and the exhaustion took its place. It feels awful. He feels awful.

Peter places a hand on his chest and shoulder, giving him as much support as he can muster despite his own serious injuries. The eyes of his mask are wide with worry, surveying the older hero's battered body.

All Might struggled, gripping what little power he had left to maintain his muscular form, just long enough for him to get out of sight—but then…

"No…"

All Might's head snaps up, as do the heads of all the students who tried to check on him amidst his display of pain and strain. Behind them stands Shigaraki, looking almost passive with his hands hanging limply at his sides, surrounded by the black mist that was his partner. He wants to yell at his students to stand back, to let him stand up and face this danger himself, but he was struggling to say just about anything.

"No...no—it wasn't supposed _to be_ this way…" He raises one arm, pointing his finger at All Might as the students that created a barrier around him looked ready to fight back. "It—It was supposed to be able to _kill you_. It was _made_ to kill you. He _lied_ to us…"

It's strange, but for a moment he seems almost childlike. As if he was just a boy whose new toy didn't work the way he wanted it to. Which he was, in a sense, but in a very demented sort of sense.

"Well, sure looks like you didn't get the best bang for your buck with that thing! Guess now it's high time we end it!" Kirishima declared, eagerly pumping his fist back and causing his skin to harden slightly.

"Oi, dibs on the pale one red head." Bakugo grumbles, filling his shoulder and giving the villains a demented-looking smirk.

Todoroki merely hums in agreement, standing at the ready while giving the pair of ne'er-do-wells a cold and piecing glare.

"Kurogiri…" Shigaraki continued, loosely dropping his arm and letting it swing to and fro.

"Shigaraki Tomura, we can still—"

"No, _no_! We're leaving right n—"

 **BLAM!**

A bullet whizzes through the air and reaches its target in an instant, piercing clean through Shigaraki's shoulder and leaving a large blood stain on his black shirt. He barely makes a pained or panicked noise, though no one can tell what the look on his face must have been given the hand that covered it. But he does take several steps back, clutching the bleeding wound while dark smoke began to wrap around him protectively.

"Oi, we're a little late, but we brought everyone we could!" Comes the familiar voice of principal Nezu, surrounded by a group of heroes that would make any villain faint at the sight, each one with expressions of varying degrees of anger at their precious students and fellow teachers being threatened in such a way. Beside them, Iida, looking extremely frantic and tense, but with a newly restored confidence in his voice he declares:

"I, Iida Tenya, president of class 1-A, have brought the cavalry!"

We now reach the point in the story where the villain has to make as quick a getaway as possible. Without even stopping for one last act of posturing to instill fear into the hearts of today's victors with the idea he may return to finish what he started, he simply steps into Kurogiri's black entryway and let it fade out of existence. At least, everyone present assumes he said nothing, given that the hail of gunfire from Snipe was too loud to catch any of it.

At this point, things go far too quickly for anyone to really keep track of. Shigaraki disappears into the inky black nothing and the smoke swirls seemingly out of existence. Wherever they were, there was nothing left behind for them to use to track them down, almost like they were never even there.

And then, silence. Broken occasionally by All Might's ragged breathing. Peter dithers a bit, wondering whether or not he should attempt a victory quip in Japanese. He ultimately decides against it.

* * *

 **Part 4 - And so...**

 _Boy loses sight of what's important._

The heroes are quick and almost ceremonial when they move to collect All Might, quickly getting him out of his students' sight under the excuse that he would need to brief them on the situation as soon as he was treated for his wounds.

The boys that fought alongside him were brought immediately for quick medical check-ups higher priority given to Peter given that he looked the most worse for wear aside from All Might.

Now, they were all outside, students talking amongst themselves while the recently arrived heroes and authorities discussed the situation and how the gravity of it would weigh down the school. None of it really mattered to Peter though. Sure, he heard his name being said more than once and was sure he caught one of the students trying to approach them, but he could barely process any of it. He drove them away with his lack of real response. The rush of battle was gone, and with it Spider-Man. Now, he was just him, and he was thinking.

It was difficult to call today a win for him, in a way. Sure, they managed to beat the bad guy despite all the hardships they faced, and though he came out looking like he'd just been thrown into a pit full of alligators he still came out on top. He's saved his classmates, saved the day, and even managed to save this world's best and beefiest hero at least once. But for him, for Peter Parker alone, what did he really accomplish today? He's still in the same place he was yesterday, and the day before, and before that. He's trapped and trying to claw his way out, and everywhere he thinks he's found the wonderful light outside it turns out he was just deluding himself into thinking that anything he was doing would ever make his life anymore enjoyable is beyond him.

"Oi."

The rapid descent into depressing existentialism was cut short of Peter having a breakdown when the call reaches his ears. It's not muffled and silenced like everything else around him this time, cutting through every barrier and defense like a hot knife through butter. He could even feel the very presence of the person who said it, looming over him with a particular antagonism and authority found only in someone like Doctor Doom.

Above him stood Katsuki Bakugo, staring down at the red clad lad with a stare that wasn't angry, nor celebratory, it was just...a stare. Blank and unmoving, devoid of any ardor but not carrying malice either. His broad shoulders were tense, held up tightly with a posture befitting of a soldier.

Peter flinched when their eyes make contact, because for as strong as he may be, those piercing red eyes were something not to be trifled with. Especially when they're locked directly into you and you're sure that if he keeps staring you're going to spontaneously immolate. And _especially_ when he kept staring like his very life depended on the fact that he was staring at Peter Parker, right now, at this exact moment.

"Gauntlet." He grunted, an inkling of warning present in his voice holding out the naked hand that once held the weapon Peter had strapped to him. Peter couldn't tell if he was being considerate of the fact that he didn't speak Japanese very much, or just didn't want to talk to him. The latter seemed a lot easier to believe.

Peter obliges; quickly, almost fearfully handing it over to the taller boy and returning to his brooding, staring intently at the ground. Bakugo doesn't move, his gaze still fixed onto the foreigner. Peter breathes in a hefty amount of the coagulated blood that replaced the air when the Nomu tossed him like a football, and Bakugo keeps staring.

"Aizawa-Sensei's in emergency care. They said he should be fine after a few days of recovery. Concussion from a hit he took, but otherwise nothing that'll last." Bakugo...consoled him? The blonde turns on his heel, preparing to walk back towards the larger group of students that gathered around the heroes. "You probably had somethin' to do with that. Not bad, shortstack." And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd of grey blobs that Peter saw as the rest of the world.

' _...I'm not that short.'_

* * *

Peter leaves.

It's a longer trip than usual. He takes a few more stops on the way; Musutafu is a nice city, he learns. The people were strange, but he's not one to judge, really. He's the stranger in this case, as much as he tries to blend in.

" _Why are you even here?"_ Says the memory of Aizawa. He's thought about the question a lot more than he thought he would. Back then, he said he didn't know, but that was a lie (like a lot of things in his life), because he knows he's here with the only reason he doesn't really have a choice. He _died_ , after all, and what was the use in going back after that? He's probably had a funeral by now. Aunt May has probably left flowers at his grave, maybe he's next to Ben. His school likely had some half-baked memorial assembly where they forced MJ to say a speech about how great he was, or just ignored it altogether. Lord knows the Avengers probably didn't care. What was the point anymore? He'd go back and everyone would know Peter Parker is Spider-Man, and also a zombie.

(He refuses to think about what any of week-to-week villains might have done when they found out his name. A silent prayer in the back of his mind helps him calm, telling him that they never acted on revenge. They realized that trying to make a dead person sad just wasn't worth the effort.)

So here he is, sitting on the edge of a rooftop, dressed in the uniform for a school he shouldn't be going to, thinking. Again.

And yet, for the life of him, he can't find a reason to be angry right now. It's his usual response to these kinds of things, he wants so desperately to kick and scream and beg to be back home. At first he thought it was because he was too tired to do anything, but he realizes now that it wasn't really the case. It didn't take much energy to be angry, after all. He realizes now that it's because he knows there's nothing he can really do about it. There is no end game here, no guiding light that will take him just where he needs to be, just him. He hates that. He hates _this_ , and in him there's nothing but hate and sorrow, and he hates that too. This isn't him. This was never—

"Rarf!"

Of course he doesn't get to finish his thought. Does he ever?

Entering his apartment, he finds his leg viciously gnawed on by the pup he'd somewhat adopted just days ago. The small furry creature tugs at his pant leg and shakes its head side to side, and Peter's afraid the good boy may just break his neck if he keeps doing that.

"C'mon, up an'attem." Peter groans, wrapping one hand around Sandwich's small torso and hoisting him up onto his shoulder, one hand pressed against his back to keep him up. He enjoys the warmth of it, holding the puppy close and nuzzling it against his neck, his eyesight obscured slightly by the black wisps of dog hair. "You must be hungry, huh? And lonely. Sorry I left you alone for so long, had to think."

It's incredibly dark outside. He's not even sure how long he was out, but he did enjoy the view of the moon again, even if it was still different.

He retrieves the dog food from the kitchenette and pours it into the bowl he'd declared belonging to Sandwich, then gently putting the dog down and letting it feast. When he thought about it, he really had no clue how to take care of a dog. You feed it, keep it hydrated walk it, bathe it, give it a place to— _oh_.

There's a smell coming from just by the stove. Dog excrement, no doubt. He should really invest in newspapers.

* * *

He's in bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling and thinking again. It's about a lot of other things though. His web shooters, his costume, his classmates, anything but his future really.

' _A list.'_ The thought forms in his head, just as he's shifting to lay down on his side, _'I need a list of...of things. Things to do, and see while I'm here. Places to go. I've never been outside of the U.S. I've seen pictures of Mount Fuji, but that's about it. Maybe I should climb it, or camp there. With...I can bring Sandwich.'_

Said dog was sleeping just next to him, curled against his leg. It's tiny breaths were soothing to Peter in a way.

' _Then I can get pictures. Yeah. Not of Spider-Man. Of_ me _. I don't need Spider-Man to be happy. And I'll make friends, too. I'll talk to people at school tomorrow. Pony, Kaminari, uh...Grape Kid. They're my friends. I'll talk to them. I'll be Peter Parker.'_

He drifts off into sleep, where he dreams of muscles and teeth, and a cellar door that he's too scared to open.

* * *

 **Part 5 - My Real Power**

He did _not_ get the memo that there would be no school the next day, so when he shows up at the tightly shut gates of UA, he's more than a little be peeved.

"Just when I wake up on time, too…" He grumbles, clicking his tongue and swiping his foot over some loose pavement. " _Now_ what?"

He could very well go home and get even more rest, maybe take Sandwich out on another walk, but he'd told himself just last night he wanted to do something. This was an opportunity that did not need wasting.

Unfortunately, he couldn't go swinging because he didn't have the time to make any web fluid;along with that didn't he really have anything to do. He brought money, a hefty ten-thousand yen he'd saved from the money the school gave him for basic amenities, money he had planned to use to get himself and someone else lunch as a play at making friendly with them. Now he was just left to his own devices, assuming everyone else had just gone home and stayed. "Okay. Alright, be that way. _Sheesh_ , can never get a break with these kinds of things." He says to the large door, trying his best to stare it into submission despite knowing that alas, it is a door.

Turning around, he adjusts himself and stretches out his shoulder, giving long look at the city before him. Doubly unfortunate, he also completely neglected bringing his costume given that it was already in tatters, and while he's willing to wear ungodly tight spandex for eighty percent of the day, he's not enough of a monster to wear ungodly tight spandex that's also ripped in the worst places. So he had to face the word today as the Amazingly Mundane Peter Parker, adventurous foreigner.

Walking through the reasonably crowded streets, he learns that not only is Musutafu is a nice city, it's also a dangerous one. It's a lot simpler to not get involved when there are dozens of heroes already patrolling the streets, so when he almost jumped into an altercation he was thankfully stopped when a familiar woody hero jumped in. He almost wanted to apologize for kicking him in the head, but he didn't think it'd be appropriate.

Peter walks for a few hours, watching as morning turns into evening and people go in and out of their workplaces, displaying varying degrees of tiredness and frustration. He gets a few looks, and more than a few questions that don't surprise him. Of course there'd be a big buzz after what happened at UA yesterday, and of course people would be curious, but he doesn't respond in any satisfactory way. Thankfully, no one decides to follow him.

It's a relaxing day, one where absolutely nothing happens that he could consider bad, or even that good. It's simply _nice_. It's just what he needed after what felt like years of tumult shaking his world apart. Though, as he felt a low rumble in his stomach, he realized that what he actually needs is some food, and admittedly he hadn't eaten since the day before and for some reason forgot to eat after the whole situation at the USJ. May would be absolutely livid with him, if she knew he hadn't A) gotten a haircut because _wow_ his head was beginning to look like an oval and B) made sure to keep himself well-fed on something that wasn't salty processed chips and Japanese ice cream.

First, a haircut. It takes him approximately twenty minutes to find what looks like a barber, and sits in a comfortable leather seat while a man with a dozen or so hands does his hair for two-thousand yen, and he ends up with a caesar cut. It's a reasonable length, no longer letting his hair droop off to the side but it didn't quite get too short. It's similar enough to the haircut that May would give him that he's comfortable with it, and dare he say it's somewhat better.

' _Which isn't to say May didn't have good hairdressing skills, but I spent way too long with a bowl cut in middle school. It really didn't help that most of my wardrobe was sweater vests and ties. Made me look like_ total _push over. Which, I was, but—ah, let's not think about that.'_

There's a smile on his face but he can't quite figure out why.

* * *

"I should get you like, a collar. Also a trip to the vet. Can I afford that? Can the school just pay for it for me? Do they cover dogs?" Peter asks the excited pup, watching as it ran towards and away from the oncoming waves at the shore of the beach. He'd passed by this place more than once. Dagobah Municipal Beach Park is what it's called, and he's proud he managed to translate that sign on the first try. He kicks over some sand absent mindlessly, picking out all the sparkling grains that catch his eye.

He decides it's a beautiful sunset. The best he's ever seen. Though he's sure he can recall that this beach didn't always look like this, that a few days before the entrance exam practicals, it was filled to the brim with rancid garbage and litter people just kept piling on. Strange, he wonders where it all went. The city probably decided it was too much of an eyesore, or some Good Samaritan came and helped this beautiful place look beautiful again. Whichever happened, he didn't cares The view was phenomenal and the air was breathable, just like it should be.

Which is precisely why he went back home and retrieved Sandwich, who deserved to get some fresh air. "You keep barking at the ocean, what, did it offend you? Call you a mutt or something?" He says, kneeling down and raising a palm that signaled for the dog to come over, to which it happily obliged. Once again, he's shocked at how receptive to him the dog was, considering how small it was and how likely it was for it to have a poor reaction to most people, given its previous status as a stray. "Good boy." He cheerfully declares, getting an excited reaction out of the dog. A chuckle escapes his throat when he watches on as the dog attempts to stand on its hand legs and balance on his knee, only to miss and land nose first in the sand, then making a quick and frustrated recovery.

"Parker?!" A voice calls in the distance, coming from behind and above him. Peter turns quickly, his eyes looking from side to side for the one responsible, only to see a familiar sentient Broccoli he'd seen break his own legs the day before. It's Midoriya, his face caked in sweat that glistened in the sun, wearing a lime green sweater and sweatpants, indicating he must have been out for a run.

On another day, Peter would've likely given a weak smile and wave, looked away and pretended it never happened. But on a day like this, he raises his arm and beckons the boy over.

* * *

"So you didn't know we were off today."

"No."

"O-Oh that's uhm...So, c-crazy stuff yesterday, huh?" Izuku stutters out in the most friendly tone he can muster, taking a seat next to Peter on a bench that overlooked the beach, right next to a brightly glowing vending machine. The once quirkless offered, but Peter insisted he buy them both bottles of water, giving Midoriya the money and letting him do it.

"Ah—yes. Very scary." Is all Peter figures he should respond, taking a minuscule sip while watching as Sandwich runs circles around the machine.

"Y-Yeah. I was honestly afraid things weren't...you know, going to work out. W-When I saw that thing standing over Aizawa-Sensei I didn't really know what to do, heh. Thank goodness for Recovery Girl though."

"Yes. She help me, too."

"I-I really can't imagine how scary it must have been for you though, having to take it on by yourself. You were...really brave, you know? It was like you're used to it. I—."

Peter tilts his head curiously, watching on as Izuku fidgets and mumbles a bit under his breath.

"I'm a bit embarrassed, really. I didn't do much in the end, huh? I mean, I tried to help, but it just didn't work. But you, you stalled for time. You gave us time to get out of there and saved Aizawa-Sensei. And I just…"

Peter can see where this is going, from a mile away. He's been there a million times, after all. So before the boy can finish all of his self-deprecating, Peter places a hand on his shoulder, and gives him as warm a smile as he can muster.

"You're jumped to save. You hero, forget don't. Grape and Asui were helped by yourself, too. You gave time. You good do."

"I uh…"

' _Oh God how much of that did I mess up?'_

"Oh—Sorry!" Izuku apologizes a bit too quickly and Peter wonders if he showed his embarrassment in his face too much, "I got most of it, I get what you're saying and...t-thanks. It means…a lot. Even if I—"

He goes silent and Peter doesn't try to ask what he was going to say. He knows the unspoken words are "don't deserve it", but Izuku probably figures Peter wouldn't have that. And he's right.

"Well, it was a nice chat but, I got to finish my run today. T-Thanks for the water!" Izuku bids him farewell and stands up, Peter giving him a quiet goodbye and a wave.

And again, he's alone.

"Rarf! Ruff-RARF!"

Well, not really.

* * *

Before he goes home, Peter decides he wants to grab a bit of a late snack. Nowhere close, though. He leaves Sandwich home alone once again, sprinting and parkouring home so as to save as much time as possible. Afterwards, he heads to the nearest train station, looking over and memorizing the train lines almost perfectly, a task made much easier by his experience with the New York subway systems.

A two hour train to Shizuoka, just to see if someone's doing alright.

It doesn't take him long to find the corner store belonging to one Noya Naohiro, a name he didn't know yet.

When he enters the familiar store, noticing the still present crack in the wall at the end and the new glass that'd been installed at the front. The older gentleman at the counter perked up as he entered, not saying a word but smiling as he watches Peter walk down the aisles. The boy grabs the spicy sweet chili kind, and takes a bottle of some strangely labeled bottled coffee. From there, he walks to the counter and the transaction is processed. The old man says nothing, and doesn't really take notice of anything, only saying goodbye and wishing him a good night. It's the simplest thing he does today, something so ephemeral and small but meaningful all the same. He'll remember this, a long time from now, and still be happy he did it.

At the door, Peter gives him a two-fingered salute and struts off, feeling proud of himself.

' _I guess that's what it's all about, huh'_ He thinks, taking a bite out of the processed corn chip, _'Saving people. Giving them a chance to keep going on. That's why I do what I do, in the end. Really, what was I thinking with all that moping around? That isn't me. I'm better than that.'_

Even if a part of him still doesn't quite believe it yet, he is. He's always been better than that, even driven to his worst, and he always will be.

 _Boy doesn't stop trying._

Because he's _Spider-Man_. And well, what more needs to be said than that?

 _You (don't) know the rest._

* * *

 **Epilogue - Incident Report, A Stake is Humble Tin**

"...and their quirks haven't been registered as far as our searching has shown us, so they're almost entirely off the grid." Detective Naomasa finishes, adjusting his tie and waiting for the response from each of the heroes at the UA meeting table. All Might, now in his depowered state, is fully invested in what's being said, despite still staring off and retreating into his own thoughts whenever he had the opportunity.

Other heroes chime in here and there, discussing the cost of repairs as well as the mental health of the students after such a terrible event, but All Might somewhat regrettably has to cut them off, tapping on Nezu's shoulder and asking to speak.

"Excuse me, but we have to take into account the efficiency through which this attack was launched…" he starts, breaking the short silence, "That...Shigaraki Tomura, he was spouted a rather deluded but still plausible ideology. And for someone seemingly so young and brash as he was, this attack felt too coordinated and meticulously planned. I saw it for myself, and Shigaraki wasn't exactly the pinnacle of maturity. He flaunted that Nomu creature's power like a child with a new toy, and threw quite the tantrum when we were able to turn the tides."

"I believe I know what you're getting at, All Might." Nezu interjects, rubbing his furry chin.

"He's a man-child, and couldn't quite hide just how childish he was when it got tough."

"So he's a kid with too much power, huh," says Vlad King, a tone of frustration evident in his voice.

"He probably never received proper guidance or counseling as a kid." Responds Midnight in a professional voice, different from the way she often presents herself to the public.

"So? What's that got to do with—"

"We apprehended a total of seventy-two villains yesterday," Naomasa cuts through the conversation like a knife through butter, looking at the two teachers, "Most of them were back alley thugs, the kind you'd usually find robbing drugstores. The question is, why exactly were they following such a man-child as All Might says. We believe it may be tied to a growing change in society, a focus on heroes and their impact on the world at large. Some people, disenfranchised youth or simply down on their luck thugs may see something in the pull of evil. The idea of raging against society and being part of an ideology that's unaffected by the same idea that the masses conform to… They're also likely people who feel 'kicked around' by society for having these ideas in the first place. Now, they're simply acting on these ideologies and impulses."

He takes another paper from the thin stack he's holding, taking note of how the heroes tended up at his words. "On that note: there's something else we found in our investigation."

"Hm?"

"Our men were able to sedate Nomu, using up over half our stock in the process, and pull him from the wreckage caused by his landing. When they removed the beam, they found a curious contained that was oozing some green liquid, embedded in its rib cage and crushed by the beam when it went through."

All Might in particular tenses up at this information, staring intently at the detective.

"From what we could gather, it had some sort of wired microphone hidden in its thigh that, on detecting a specific sound or phrase, would cause the green fluid to escape from the container. We grilled the other thugs we apprehended about it, and none of them knew about this until we told them. According to them, the operation wasn't funded particularly well, so there's no reasonable way they could've gotten this technology without stealing it, and there've been no reports of anything like this being stolen in Musutafu lately."

"So, either they have someone part of their group manufacturing this kind of technology, or…" Nezu starts his thought, just before being cut off by All Might.

"Or they're being gifted this kind of tech by an outside source of some kind."

"Right." Naomasa confirms, smiling at the two. "That's about all we have for now. They're still doing analysis on both Nomu's body and the container inside of him, so I'll get back to you on whatever they find."

All Might sighed inwardly, wishing they had a more clear answer. He's reminded of something Shigaraki said, about Nomu being 'made to kill him.' Whatever that meant, he didn't know, but he knew that the implications of it disturbed the hero to his very core.

 **End.**

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Fun fact: the Paul Jenkins style Mythos bits were originally going to be in the style of the old Lee/Ditko narration boxes, but I didn't think it felt right. There was actually a lot of PJ influence in here, including his "Gods fighting over Heaven and Earth" but he did in Spectacular SM #14, would recommend checked it out if you guys ever get the chance. There's something about the way he writes the relationship between Peter and Norman that speaks to me.**

 **Also some updates and some thoughts:**

 **I've also realized how much I despise action sequences. They're so much less interesting and enjoyable to write than straight dialogue for me. They're a bit disjointed and I never know if I'm going too fast or too slow, being too repetitive, not adding enough detail or adding too much in places it doesn't belong, etc. Feel free to skip those, because they are a challenge to read through. I'm definitely going to focus on those a lot less.**

 **Extras are now gone. Realize now they're pretty pointless, maybe extra chapters (I'd like to have a chapter told from the perspective of Sandwich, sort of like Fraction's Hawkeye #11) but that's further down the line.**

 **Also, in my time away I noticed a ton of other Spider-Man and MHA stories dropped! Which makes me glad considering how few there were when I started. Please support those FF writers and read those. A lot of them are really good!**

 **Speaking of really good: a shout out to a user on here, Tear gass, for making some really good art for the story that you can view using this imgur link: /sznecYK  
it's pretty fantastic, and really makes me feel warm and fuzzy that someone with actual artistic ability enjoyed my work enough to put the time into making something this good.**

 **Plus all things considered, from start to now-ish my story is really mediocre. I know that, and I wanna improve as best I can, so please, for the love of Pete, tell me how much I suck and give me some tips. They help a lot.**

 **Welp, that's about it. See you in twelve years. Next time Peter goes to the moon and fights Martians. Bakugo is involved.**


	10. Chapter 10

**10 - Sports Festival 1: The Star Maiden**

 **Fourteen Days Before The Sports Festival**

"Sports festival?!" Mineta.

"Fsporphs Frrruhstuhvuh." Aizawa.

"SPORTS FESTIVAL?!" Kaminari.

"Fsporphs Frrruhstuhvuh." Aizawa.

This goes on for another minute or so. If one possessed super hearing, they could easily hear one of the teacher's blood vessels popping with every response he received. Their teacher and bearer of bad news, the mummified Aizawa, has just announced to Class 1-A that they would be participating in a sporting event, as far as Peter can tell. It's a lot harder to make out Japanese when it's being muffled by bandages. He had to wonder if Aizawa actually needed those bandages, or if Recovery Girl made him use them out of sheer spite. Either way, it was made for some top quality entertainment.

"C'mon Sensei, we just had a villain attack like, yesterday!"

"Two days ago."

"Two days ago!"

The teacher sighs, attempting to pinch the bridge of his nose but accidentally bumping his bandages arm onto his bandaged face. Some of the students snicker at this, Kaminari full-on snorting and earning a glare from Aizawa.

"Whull we unnerstandf yor kuhncerms, ift's impheratiff thaht FOO-AYE f'mainthains a sounth ruhsponth too thuh sichuashuhn. Therr wuhll be _foive thoims_ thuh numbpher of acthiv poleef. Yoo shudff ve thahnkfull, portifipating en thuh Fsporph Fustuhvuh iff thuh hraytesth offortunithy yull-"

"Sensei, we have absolutely no idea what you're saying." A grimacing Yaoyorozu finally steps up, speaking out amidst the sea of giggles and snorts that was the classroom. Most of the students were glancing at each other and then their teacher, in the hopes that his bleeding red gaze wouldn't land on them in particular.

No one needed super hearing to catch the sound of Aizawa grinding his teeth.

The bell rings, and lunchtime comes.

The lunchroom is abuzz with the usual chatter, many of the students stealing suspicious glances at the 1-A students, most of which didn't seem to notice. Today, Peter decided to sit closer to the people he felt he could talk to, therefore Kaminari and Mineta, who sat across from Jiro and who Peter recognized as Sero, or the kid with the weird elbows.

"You know," Kaminari starts, interrupting himself to slurp up an ungodly amount of soba, "As pumped as I am for the Sports Festival, seems a bit soon for them to throw that on us right? 'Specially after that attack. Do they not think of the trauma we experienced?"

"Didn't you tell me this morning you spent most of yesterday at the mall to find a shirt that went better with your costume to look cooler!"

"Fashion's therapeutic. You wouldn't understand what I'm going through."

"I was _with you_. So was Yaoyorozu, and she's doing fine." Jiro said, taking a sip from her milk carton and glaring at Denki pointedly.

"Well my point is they should at least postpone it!"

"No way!" Kirishima said, speedily moving closer to where they sat and throwing his body over the table while leaning his chair forward and standing it on two legs. His arrival was sudden and obnoxious, causing everyone's trays to shake and Jiro to hack up droplets of the precious dairy product in surprise, with Peter doing a panicked hop in place and reeling back from the table. "We've gotta prove our manliness to alla' the heroes that'll be there! You said it yourself bro!"

"Oh come on, they've at least gotta give us some extra time to rela— _recover_ before training!" Mineta whined, making exaggerated hand motions at Kirishima. "Heck, Parker had to fight that big thing all by himself! He's probably the most traumatized one here!"

"No way again!" Kirishima said. "Parker's the manliest guy at this table, he wouldn't let something like that slow 'im down, right?"

Said Parker was wolfing down a hamburger steak when he stops to see the rest of the group staring at him, as if waiting for some sort of response. Not even bothering to swallow, he drops his utensils and gives the arguing bunch a weak wave and a small grin, carefully making sure no food spills from his mouth as he does.

"See! This' a real man right here!" Kirishima said in response, reaching over the table and wrapping his arm around Peter's neck, doing a strange sort of side-hug and almost causing the boy to cough out his food. All Peter can do is offer a weak thumbs up while the rest of the students present show open pity at his predicament. "You should've seen him out there! Handling something that intense like a champ and coming to school like nothing, he's bound to get a ton of praise from the heroes!"

"Ay, don't be so sure man." Denki postures, kicking his feet up onto the lunch table and leaning back in his chair, grinning. "I like to think _I'll_ be the one on top this time. Sorry Parker, but I've gotta keep up an image." He gives the foreign boy a cheeky wink and a toothy grin, to which Jiro and Kirishima giggle, both for different reasons entirely.

"Pffft. The day you can beat Parker is the day Bakugo's fuse gets a few feet longer." Jiro says, taking another sip of milk and ignoring the distant 'OI' in response to her disrespect.

"Actually…" Peter finally said in a hushed tone, noticing all eyes turning to him once more, "I...do not understand. Is this a…. fight?" He communicates slowly, sounding out every syllable and word so as to make sure he doesn't say something embarrassing again. The boy didn't quite understand what this 'Sports Festival' really entailed. He was assuming it was a competition of sorts, and that already put him off quite a bit.

See, Peter Parker was not a naturally competitive or athletic person. Sports are not what Peter Parker _does_. He spent recess reading chemistry textbooks instead of playing kickball or tag with everyone else, he didn't really measure up to most people from a physical standpoint for a majority of his life. Heck, before the spider bite he could barely lift his computer monitor, much less play basketball. When it came to competition, he's never felt particularly inclined towards challenging other people, unless it was from an intellectual standpoint and their name was Liz 'She-Demon' Allen.

It reminded him of a time when things were simpler, and she took it upon herself to laugh at him for being late to school for the third day in a row despite his history of perfect attendance. It was probably the most violent and confrontational Peter ever got with another human being that wasn't a super villain, and he ended up being challenged to an academic decathlon-style quiz that would be hosted by her fellow members of the student council.

Peter then claimed that he would 'destroy her in a way so profound that her family would feel the residual shame for generations to come.' He likes to lie to himself and say the symbiote had left some negative effects on his psyche that caused him to say that, but he knows it wasn't quite true. Unfortunately, he couldn't attend the duel of minds as he was too busy being flung around the Bronx by Omega Red—' _An X-Men villain, mind you.'—_ and couldn't show up as a result.

Harry took it upon himself to step in and fight for Peter's honor. He was thusly destroyed in a way so profound Norman probably had to gasp for air and clutch his nearly stopped heart as he sat in his corporate office. It wasn't a fair match-up to say the least, Harry was a B-minus student at best and Liz excelled academically in a way that made even Peter sweat. The rich boy stood no chance, and no amount of comfort pizza could heal the scars she left on his soul.

Bottom line was, competition is not his thing. It never was and likely never would be.

"Honestly it's more about puttin' on a show when you think about it," Sero says as he cuts in, leaning forward in his seat as if he's giving away trade secrets. "If we _look_ impressive enough than we're sure to get commendations from the heroes right? Plus a ton of sidekick opportunities!"

"Yeah! It's also a good way for the school to make money. Millions of people watch the Sports Festival every year, it's basically replaced the Olympics," Mineta said. "I mean, you also get to have a ton of babes watching you show off your moves! It's _guaranteed_ to score you some—."

"You little _pig_." Said Jiro, her weaponised earlobes pointed threateningly at the lecherous louse.

" _Haha,_ c'mon I'm just messing around!" Mineta says defensively, putting on a nervous smile and rubbing the back of his head. He turns to Peter again, as if asking for help. Giving him one of those 'you brought this upon yourself' looks, Peter shrugs, eliciting laughter from everyone else at the table.

* * *

"What is going on?!" The round-faced girl Peter believes is named Urarara(ra?)ka yelled, standing at the exit door of class 1-A. And she had good reason to, as Peter looked over and saw the blockade of students stood by the doorway, talking idly amongst themselves and creating a sea of chatter.

"The heck are they here for?" Mineta says with a look of outrage aimed towards the mob, before he feels himself being lightly shoved out of the way by Bakugo.

"Scoping out the competition it looks like. Heh." He smirks, walking closer to the mob as if approaching a new challenger. "Makes sense, we're the guys ones survived a villain attack that. Plus, I _am_ here after all." His smirk becomes a frown when he reaches the doorway, then screaming in a voice that cut through the noise: "Outta' my way _cannon fodder_ , before I'm forced to move the lot of you."

Midoriya and Iida plead for him to stop, but both realize their efforts are in vain when they see Bakugo's fists clench. Peter instinctively keeps an eye on things, his aversion to senseless violence getting the best of him, but he remains stood behind the aforementioned Midoriya and Iida until anything happens.

Or when he can, you know, leave.

"Must say, I'm more than a little unimpressed." Another voice cuts through the silence that Bakugo created, and from the crowd comes a boy with wildly tall purple hair and bags under his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, presenting himself with a very casual and almost affable disposition. "A lot of us couldn't make it into this coveted hero course you know? If this' what it looks like, I'm almost glad I didn't get in here…"

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Bakugo said, taking a threatening step forward and narrowing his eyes. Those standing on the sidelines and watching stiffen up, basking in awe at this purple stranger's nerves. Alas, another voice cuts through, one that offered a bit more levity.

"Hey—HEY! Class 1-B, next door!" Yells a student with some...eyelashes, Peter assumes. Very strange eyelashes. "Heard you guys got in a fight with some villains, so I came here to find out more, but insteada' heroes all I'm seeing is some arrogant _jerks_! You guys better not act this way at the Festival, got it!?"

"We'll act whatever way we _want_ , lashes."

And with that, the Class 1-A reputation is forever cemented as being 'arrogant jerks.'

"Oh come on Bakugo, you can't be that way! You're just making us more enemies!" Kaminari says with a sigh, showing his annoyance towards the angrier blonde, who was far too busy trying to shove his way through the crowd of angry students.

"Like I care! I'm aiming for the top and nowhere else, and these losers can get— _hrkmove_ —outta my— _seriouslygetoutthewaywhatinthefuck-"_

With that, he was gone.

Kirishima sniffles. "S-So manly…"

"The guy's deluded! Just made himself a target." Kaminari huffs, crossing his arms. Though Sato and Tokoyami seem somewhat more distant, thinking on this.

"He's got the right idea though. Aiming for the top, huh…" Sato says as he rubs his chin, staring off quizzically.

Peter can only sigh, pick up his bag, and turn his attention elsewhere. He's not particularly nervous, nor is he particularly excited about any of he's hoping it will at least be a good time.

' _But hey,'_ He thinks, stepping out of the classroom and ignoring the glances he received from other students, ' _At least it's just a sporting event. No life-risking combat for a good, long while.'_

* * *

 **Twelve Days Before the Sports Festival**

The school days go by too quickly for his tastes. He notices everyone's demeanor changing, for better or for worse, and decides he should try something too.

Not that he really cares about the Sports Festival at all, but he'd prefer being able to hold his own should he have to challenge anyone directly. Peter is a more than capable fighter, but he never really 'trained' in the same way everyone else was. The closest he ever got was a few combat tips from Daredevil, which came in handy from time to time. How to measure his blows, how much force to put behind attacks depending on where it is he's hitting, how to use some of his other senses to his advantage.

Come to think of it, Daredevil taught him a lot of things.

"I should go to a gym." He says outloud, slightly startling Sandwich, who was absorbed in his meal time. Peter is splayed out on his bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his small apartment. "No, they probably wouldn't have enough weight for me. I could try shadowboxing?"

The television drones on about something that doesn't concern him. Sandwich merely snarls in response, downright inhaling the processed meat. These were the two things he could confide in anymore.

Wait, the television. It just said something important, something he could make out. He looks at it and perks his ears, staring at the news anchor on screen.

.:...the hero known as Peach Boy, making this the seventeenth hero found dead in Japan as part of a massive string of strikingly similar homicides and assaults. In spite of this, twenty-three heroes managed to survive their run-ins with the 'Hero Killer', as social media has dubbed him, with extreme injuries, many of them reported that…:.

Peter frowns at the tragic news, rubbing his chin and thinking for a moment. Then, a light bulb.

"Or I could try patrolling? See if there's any more guys I can trounce out there. Yeah. That sounds like a good time. You're a smart guy, Sandwich." Peter said to the dog, smiling looking over at messy table at the other end of the room, eyeing the red and blue costume that he spent the better part of yesterday repairing, as well as the pair of web shooters he'd refilled. Now, this didn't mean he was going to go looking for the Hero Killer. He didn't even have information to go off of other than a news story and the fact that he's already killed over a dozen people in Japan. It's silly of him to expect to find anything substantial, not to mention the risk he's taking in trying to find someone that killed _heroes_ , ones that are probably stronger than he is if All Might is anything to go off of.

But, if he runs into anything, he isn't afraid to swing. He's a New Yorker, after all. Not a thrill seeker.

So he throws on the suit, feeling the fabric grip his body like a second skin, and clasps on the classic web shooters, taking pride in his ingenuity and intelligence. Then, he puts on the mask, his eyes adjust to the thin white netting that went under the clear plastic lenses. The suit looks aged, a lot of the older and unreplaced fabric still worn out and loose in some places, but it will have to do. He fingers the triggers of the web shooters, feeling the fluid inside of the metal cartridges stir and rattle, threatening to fire.

He's satisfied with his handiwork. And while the suit will never stop hugging him in all the wrong places, he'll always find comfort in the familiarity.

So he takes to the night, in search of villainy and action.

He returns hours later, having found very little.

* * *

 **Eleven Days Before the Sports Festival**

One boy was repeatedly hitting another boy in the middle of a ballpark. This is not the situation you think it is.

"Okay, hit me again!"

"Are you sure?"

"Hell yeah!"

 **WHAM**

"Nn…"

Kirishima almost doubles over in pain, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. All Peter can do is wince apologetically.

The red-haired boy had asked Peter if he could help him with some training, and Peter expected something like spotting him at a gym, or a light spar of some sort. Not an _endurance test_. He knew Kirishima's ability was to become harder, and ignoring every possible double entendre he could think of, he understood that this was a method of training it. Seeing just how much damage he could sustain before succumbing to the pain. So, he requested that Peter follow him to this local baseball field, and hit him.

And Peter hit him, being sure to pull his punches, but he realized it sort of hurt, so he hit him a bit harder. Then harder, and harder, until he was sort of putting his back into it a bit. He didn't _mean_ to. In fact, the other boy was quite literally asking for it!

"Are you sure we should—."

"N-No I'm good. I'm good." Kirishima says through bated breaths, brushing his forearm over his lip. He steels himself, holding both arms at his sides and scrunches up his face, activating his quirk and causing his skin to harden even further.

Peter reels his fist back, preparing to send another, perhaps slightly weaker hit straight into the poor boy's sternum, when he catches himself, a stray, but relevant, memory coming to mind.

" _You can take a hit all you like, but you're better off learning how not to get hit in the first place, idiot." He says, masterfully tossing the bloodied billy club at Spider-Man. It's caught easily, and responded to only with a skeptical look. The thug who broke his hands on Spider-Man's scalp writhes on the ground, groaning in pain._

"Maybe...not taking the hit. D...Dodging?" Peter says, lowering his fist. "You can already take the hit, yes? But you need to...not take the hit. Moving out."

Kirishima blinks, then blinks again. Humming, he straightens out his posture and looks off in thought, before a wide and toothy grin adorns his face. "You're right!" He exclaims, snapping his fingers. "I can get better at dodging hits _and_ still be able to train how good I am at taking them! That way I can draw fights out longer. That's way manlier!"

He gives Peter a light slug on the shoulder, the manliest way of thanking someone his brain could muster, and raises his defenses.

"Okay, now try to hit me and I'll move out of the way! C'mon, full speed!"

"A...are you sure?"

"Yeah! I bet I could—!"

 **WHAM!**

"GAH!"

Peter won't dare admit it, but this is somewhat therapeutic.

* * *

 **Nine Days Before the Sports Festival**

He bought a laptop, and he's feeling a bit proud of himself. Granted, he may have personally asked Present Mic if the school could bump his checks up to cover a few costs, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel like he's earned it. The machine isn't anything too powerful, it's just about what you'd get for school and work documents and the occasional browsing, but it's more than enough given what he's had for the last few…months?

It has been some time, hasn't it.

At first he does a bit of research, for things he hasn't quite figured out yet. How much has happened since superpowers became a reality, how it happened and what research was put into it, how society adapted to those changes, all that. As it turns out, Hawaii doesn't exist anymore. It used to, but then there was something about a guy with a quirk that makes volcanoes explode as well as a lot of poorly edited found footage. Quite horrifying. Also as it turns out, he learns not everyone has a quirk after all, only about eighty percent of the population. It doesn't really come as a surprise, but it's still fascinating, and he can't help but wonder just what triggered it. Could it be some alternate variation of the X-Gene? Alien tampering? Government experimentation accidentally released into the public? No one seems to have found out, not even the…

"Late Reed Richards, who died during the failed _Astraea One_ mission, along with his wife Sue Richards, his brother-in-law Jonathan Storm, and close friend and colleague Ben Grimm. He and his wife left behind two children, Franklin and Valeria Richards, founders of the Future Foundation." He says aloud to himself, his voice taking on a somewhat anxious tone. "It's so...different. But at the same time…"

He stops, staring at the screen. In his musings, he didn't realize he was just halfway through typing something reflexively.

Peter P|

He eyes the blinking text cursor with a marked agitation, and slaps the laptop shut. With a sigh, he leans back until he goes from cross-legged on his bed to laying flat on his back, the most comfortable position for emotional outbursts.

"No. No we're—we're not doing that. Right Sandwich?" Peter mutters, not expecting any kind of response from his charge. "We're not doing any of _that_. Nope. We aren't going there."

And he didn't, for now at least.

Though it is a somewhat reassuring prospect to know that this Earth is at least similar enough to draw certain parallels from, despite the wild differences. Thor didn't seem to exist, or at least he'd never come to Earth for whatever reason. Bruce Banner was still alive, albeit a halfway successful physicist under scrutiny for drug abuse charges, though he's certain 'Trigger' never existed in his world. SHIELD was apparently defunct, falling apart due to unknown circumstances. Matt Murdock was governor of New York, something that gave Peter a strange sense of pride and relief. Otto Octavius wasn't a scientist at all, he was the face of a fitness program due to his astounding weight loss after participating in it. Plus, due to his quirk that allows him to bend metals at will, he'd coined the popular phrase 'don't just pump that iron, snap it in half!' There were numerous American commercials featuring him, lathered in oil, performing some intense looking workouts while blithering on about how handsome it makes him.

This was probably the most disturbing difference that he'd found.

But the most surprising of all, _Norman Osborn_ , a man so vile Peter thought you could never replicate it, existed, and was still the multimillionaire he was in the other world. Though he seemed far less suspicious, given Oscorp focused less on genetic engineering and more on the business of supplying heroes with equipment and fashion. Not to mention the many pictures of him and Harry online, with them smiling and hugging and doing things a father and son would do.

His Norman was never that way, he was always cold to everyone around him, his very own family wasn't even an exception. Every interview he accepted was filled with cynicism, disgust with the media and the world at large. He almost never smiled in photographs either, coming off as uncharismatic and Scrooge-like. Overall, quite the terrible person to be around.

This didn't even count his habit of putting on a ridiculous purple and green goblin suit and flying around New York on a glider while throwing bombs around with reckless abandon.

But this Norman Osborn was a different man entirely. He was personable, fun, charitable and quite the humanitarian in his own right. A picturesque version of your everyday millionaire, with a staunch and devoted following on the internet because of his charisma and attitude. It was amazing just how different things were.

At least, it seemed, that things were better.

And he wouldn't admit it made him feel a bit curious.

Nor would he admit it made him feel a bit jealous.

Because this Peter Parker probably didn't have to deal with all the costumes and death-defying antics. This Peter Parker was probably happier. So he feels he's better off not knowing by just how much.

* * *

 **Six Days Before the Sports Festival**

Three boys sat together and talked about girls, but not in the way you might think. No, it was infinitely more pathetic. They were trying to decide what Hagakure looked like. So, in the most uncomfortable and creepy way they possibly could, they sat and stared from across the lunch room, like a bunch of wildly stupid pigeons.

"Definitely blonde." Kaminari _siiiiiippppssss_ from his milk carton.

"Nah. I bet she's a redhead." Mineta _siiiiiippppssss_ from his coffee can.

"I do not know if color would count? Is it just...clear?" Parker _siiiiiippppssss_ from his juice pouch.

Of course, the trio weren't staring at the invisible girl in question with longing or lust (besides maybe Mineta) just curiosity. None of the boys even knew how the conversation came up, it simply did. The girl was sat next to the ever quiet Jiro and the ever round-faced Ura(rara?)ka, with whom she was talking up a storm with. Peter didn't really feel embarrassed, he was sort of living on the 'nothing left to lose' mentality here. Shame was a word he no longer knew. Kaminari and Mineta were already deep enough into the darkness to begin with.

"Okay, valid point. But then she'd technically count as...colorless?" Kaminari says, taking another sip of his milk and squinting at the girl. "I mean, she probably has a color, right? Like, hair and skin and stuff, but we just can't see it."

"...how does she do her hair?" Mineta asks, squinting his eyes as well.

Peter eyes them both, a little bit skeptical of their intentions, but chimes in nonetheless. "You could just ask her?"

"No! That'd just be cheating."

"Yeah foreign boy! I dunno how they do it in America, but here we figure this stuff out on our own. Plus, if we ask her…" Mineta places a hand on Peter's shoulder, giving him a deathly serious look into the very windows of his soul, "she wins."

"O...Okay?"

They sat in amicable silence, still staring at the bubbly invisible lass.

Kaminari places his forefinger and thumb on his chin, his thoughts becoming deeper. "...what if you stabbed her? Would you see it or like-"

" _Dude_!"

"What?! It's an honest question!"

"You're gonna scare Parker away! Look at him, he's sweating!"

"Says you Mister 'How-Big-Is-The-Average-American-Cup-Size'!"

"That's very useful information! Besides you were curious too!"

"Well at least I have some SHAME!" Kaminari is standing now, both hands balled into fists while leaning down over Mineta's chair and giving him a glare like no other. It was all in good fun of course, but he wouldn't say he wasn't a little bit offended at the insinuation that he was as perverted as Mineta. There were lows even he wouldn't reach.

"Suuuuure. That must be why you wanted tripp pants for your hero costume."

"OH DON'T YOU-"

" _Ha!_ "

Both students stop at the sudden noise, blinking at one another. They turn with almost perfect synchrony, their eyes held only slightly wide in surprise as they realize what they're seeing.

Peter Parker, full-blown laughing like he'd heard the best joke in his life. Chortles and quick breaths and all. They'd seen just about everyone laugh like that since the year had begun, except Parker. He was always too quiet, and the most he'd ever give was an amicable smile or a soft giggle.

"S-Sorry I ahm…" He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, looking up at Kaminari. "Tr-tripp pants! Heh!"

Kaminari's flabbergasted look transforms into one of mock-agitation. "Come on man, not you too!"

"See! Even he thinks it'll just look stupid!"

"It's a fashion statement!"

Across the lunchroom, the girls were actually discussing how Toru does her hair. The boys did not know this, and would likely never know. They did come to the conclusion, however, that Kaminari would not look good in tripp pants. Few people ever do.

* * *

 **Two Days Before the Sports Festival**

Peter doesn't feel well today.

It's nothing in particular. There's nothing new going on, he hasn't found a reason to feel this way. Well, that's a lie. There's a lot of reasons to feel this way. He'd be insane not to. But he's better than that, right?

He is.

Is he?

"I am."

He can hear his own heartbeat. His fingers run along the reflective lense of Spider-Man's mask. The only sound in the apartment is the droning of the ceiling fan and the sounds of Sandwich lapping at his water bowl.

"Am I?"

He can hear his own heartbeat. It's going too fast.

* * *

 **One Day Before the Sports Festival**

"So, like, you nervous about tomorrow?" Says Pony, walking alongside Peter in some unspecified sidewalk in an unspecified neighborhood in Musutafu. The school day had just ended, and Peter had rather scandalously (at least according to Mineta) been asked to walk along with her. Peter quickly realized she didn't live anywhere near where he did, but he kept going anyways.

Peter turns his eyes up to the sky, thinking. "Not really."

"Are you that confident you can beat'em all?" She quirks an eyebrow, looking skeptical. "There's a couple of tough people in my class. I'm...I'm not sure if I can win against half of them. Not to mention yours and well, you."

She and most everyone else had heard tale from Mineta and Kirishima, two of the few very vocal witnesses. Peter Parker, taking on a monster that gave All Might a run for his money one on one. It was one of those things people would whisper about when they caught sight of him, not that Peter had really noticed.

"Well, no. I just don't really care I guess." Peter shrugs his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets to further the cool nonchalant attitude. Though it was true, he genuinely wasn't concerned about the Sports Festival. Winning, losing, none of that, and that lack of concern had only grown since he learned what it was.

It wasn't that he didn't understand that people were though. Today was one of the few days Kaminari and Mineta hadn't approached him after school, as both wanted to get in some last minute practice before the Festival. The same went for just about every student that had no reason to stay at school afterward. But Peter's lack of care is one of the reasons he decided to spend his time walking to someone else's home.

"Come on, I'm not that special. Besides, if I'm not even trying then there's one less thing to worry about."

"I guess you're right...but still. I'm just, you know, not looking forward to losing."

She looks downcast and Peter notices this. Inwardly, he sighs, and puts on his 'joke-face.'

"Pish posh, as if. You're the best or 1-B, probably better than anyone in 1-A! I mean, have you seen Mineta? His hero costume has a diaper! If you're telling me you can't beat that, I'm assuming you're lying to lull me and everyone else into a false sense of security." Peter says in a dramatic tone, throwing his hands around in a lively fashion to add to the comedic effect. She giggles, and he considers it a success. "You've probably got a few tricks up your sleeve that'd make All Might quiver in fear!"

Her giggles turn to laughter, and it becomes a resounding success.

"Okay— _Okay_. I'll do my best. Thanks for the encouragement, it helps."

"What else am I here for."

They walk together in amicable silence for a bit longer, before Pony speaks again.

"By the way… I know you've gotten your Japanese down a bit better than me, but Monoma's been teaching me a few words. He keeps laughing when I say them, though, sooooo I think he's lying about what they mean."

"Like?"

"Well, do you know what _kuso_ _kurae_ means?"

Peter can't help but laugh too.

* * *

 **The Day of the Sports Festival**

Norman Osborn wakes up, and greets the day with a smile.

 **End.**

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Comic recommendations: Morrison and Sharp's The Green Lantern, Zdarsky and Checchetto's Daredevil, and Liu and Takeda's Monstress. Three amazing stories from DC, Marvel and Image. Check them out.**

 **I liked writing this chapter. Lots more decompression, and it was a bit shorter. Practicing character interaction is fun.**

 **I need to get used to not using alternatives for stuff like "said." That and epithets, which I've generally tried to avoid. It's hard not to be bothered by the repetition, but it makes it a lot more comprehensive I feel.**

 **Hey, 100+ reviews! Nice! I'm honored by all the praise and advice you guys have given me on the ride. I feel like I've really improved and only want to keep improving to provide something even more enjoyable.**

 **Speaking of reviews, I want to thank every guest reviewer and user for leaving theirs. All advice, praise, and such is so appreciated. It's really great to have more concrete ways to improve that you guys have been giving me. One user said I should pick up the Mistborn series for better fight coordination, which now I'm planning to for reference. Again, just thanks for everything.**

 **I'm probably going to go back and touch up on some of the older chapters in terms of grammar and other kinds of editing in between this and the next one, I wanna improve as I go but I also wanna keep previous stuff readable for anyone new to it.**

 **NEXT TIME: It seems Spider-Man's most frightful foe has made a return! And he comes with an ultimatum: WIN or DIE!**


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